TO SLEEP

I pray thee, timid Sleep, to bide with me. Night after night do not affrighted be, Like some wild bird, Which, at the softest word Or slightest rustle heard, Afar from human presence swift doth flee. I woo thee, gentle Sleep, with every art That wistfullest desire can impart; But cruelly Thou still deniest me Thy restful company, And I am weary—body, mind and heart. Yes, very tired my body is with pain, And heart with care, while thoughts perplex my brain. O sweet Repose! If thou mine eyes wouldst close, My wearied limbs compose, And bind me till the morn with slumb'rous chain! Not yet? Ah, cruel Sleep! soon I shall find Thy brother, sterner called, to be more kind. Most welcome guest, Death bringeth gift of rest— Rest undisturbed and blest, When dream and care and pain are left behind.