Sonnet. "But to be still! oh, but to cease awhile"

But to be still! oh, but to cease awhile
  The panting breath and hurrying steps of life,
  The sights, the sounds, the struggle, and the strife
  Of hourly being; the sharp, biting file
  Of action, fretting on the tightened chain
  Of rough existence all that is not pain,
  But utter weariness; oh to be free
  But for a while from conscious entity!
  To shut the banging doors and windows wide,
  Of restless sense, and let the soul abide
  Darkly and stilly, for a little space,
  Gathering its strength up to pursue the race;
  O heavens! to rest a moment, but to rest
  From this quick, gasping life, were to be blest!