SLEEP.
Dear Nurse that foldeth weary Nature to
Thy heart, and from tired eyes shutteth out the light,
E’en as a mother at the fall of night
Doth take her child upon her lap to undo
The snarls and tangles of the day, and woo
Away the sun-bred ills, and balm the sight
With visions of another world all bright,
Dear soothing healing Sleep! ’tis thee I sue.
Come, fold your arms about my Sweetheart-Wife;
Balm up her eyes that stare at staring Night;
Seal down her lids with sweet, refreshing gleams,
Or visions, rather, of the happy life
We’ve planned together; and leave her not till the light
Of morn, with me, shall kiss her from her dreams.