Sonett-Forum

A Sleepless Night

Twelve – but Macaulay had but now been closed;
Sleep could not quickly follow page so fine;
One – and strange figures filled my wakeful eye;
Two – and the lightning finds those eyes unclosed;

Three – and for no brief instant had I dozed;
Four – and slow morn did on the casement shine,
But where my strength for challenge so divine?
Five – still for slumber wholly indisposed

I on my restless pillow turn and twist,
Reaching a hopeful weariness by six;
And then all sense of outer objects missed,
I with the Cavaliers and Roundheads mix

Awhile, to rise an irate rouge, perplexed,
Vexing the house because myself am vexed.