Drowsy the Waves

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Drowsy the Waves

Drowsy the waves and dim the sky,

Across the shore and far away,

Like drunken things the rushes sway

Without a wind. O God on high,

Is it decreed that longer yet

Within this lockless prison set,

Beside this sea that profits naught,

I am to languish? Answering not,

Like to a living thing, the grain

Sways mute and yellowing on the plain;

No tidings will it let me hear,

And none besides to give me ear.