Ah! Gentle May I lay me down

[Parting is hard, and death is terrible;]1
I seem to walk through a deep valley,
far from the light of day, alone and comfortless!
The damps of death fall thick upon me!
Horrors stare me in the face!
I look behind, there is no returning;
Death follows after me;
I walk in regions of Death, where no tree is;
without a lantern to direct my steps,
without a staff to support me.

O life of this our spring! why fades the lotus of the water,
Why fade these children of the spring, born but to smile and fall?
Ah! Thel is like a wat'ry bow, and like a parting cloud;
Like a reflection in a glass; like shadows in the water;
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face;
Like the dove's voice; like transient day; like music in the air.
Ah! gentle may I lay me down, and gentle rest my head,
And gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gentle hear the voice
Of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time.