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JOHN OLDHAM

1653-1683

431                                             A Quiet Soul

THY soul within such silent pomp did keep,
   As if humanity were lull’d asleep;
So gentle was thy pilgrimage beneath,
   Time’s unheard feet scarce make less noise,
   Or the soft journey which a planet goes:
Life seem’d all calm as its last breath.
   A still tranquillity so hush’d thy breast,
      As if some Halcyon were its guest,
      And there had built her nest;
It hardly now enjoys a greater rest.

 

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