06.01.2013, 15:30
Sonnet in the night
Come gently, Sleep, and let me rest to-night
With no disturbing dream of angel's wings.
Bring no song in thy heart that sings and sings
Like a bird amid thy skies of calm delight.
Oh wake me not with these, but heal my sight
Of inner visions, cure the subtle stings
Of too great pleasure, lull the murmurings
Of thy dear dreams! Oh, do not shine so bright!
For I would rest and stint myself to thought.
Nay, get thee from my sleep, thou lovely dear!
Why wilt thou gather round me so, enringing?
And then a voice replies, "His hand has wroght
A sound in thy soul's raiment thou dost hear,
Poor child, that cannot rid thyself of singing."
Come gently, Sleep, and let me rest to-night
With no disturbing dream of angel's wings.
Bring no song in thy heart that sings and sings
Like a bird amid thy skies of calm delight.
Oh wake me not with these, but heal my sight
Of inner visions, cure the subtle stings
Of too great pleasure, lull the murmurings
Of thy dear dreams! Oh, do not shine so bright!
For I would rest and stint myself to thought.
Nay, get thee from my sleep, thou lovely dear!
Why wilt thou gather round me so, enringing?
And then a voice replies, "His hand has wroght
A sound in thy soul's raiment thou dost hear,
Poor child, that cannot rid thyself of singing."