II.
Reading edition
You who know what easeful arms Silence winds about the dead, Or what far-swept music charms Hearts that were earth-wearied; You who know—if aught be known In that everlasting Hush Where the life-born years are strewn, Where the eyeless ages rush,— Tell me, is it conscious rest Heals the whilom hurt of life? Or is Nirvana undistressed E'en by memory of strife?