High Falcon & Other Poems/Lullaby

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LULLABY
Hush, lullay.Your treasures allEncrust with rust,Your trinket pleasures fall    To dust.
Beneath the sapphire arch,Upon the grassy floor,Is nothing more    To hold,And play is over-old.Your eyes    In sleepy fever gleam,Your lids droop    To their dream.You wander late alone,The flesh frets on the bone,Your love fails in your breast,Here is the pillow.    Rest.
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