Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO SLEEP, by NORMAN ROWLAND GALE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO SLEEP, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Alas! How far away it seems
Last Line: If thou wilt come to-morrow, sleep.
Subject(s): Dreams; Sleep; Nightmares


ALAS! how far away it seems
Since in an Arcady of dreams
Beside a shaded pool I met
My early, only love again!
Her face with little drops was wet
Like pansy petals after rain;
But when she saw me by the reeds
With love enough to feast her needs,
Her glowing mouth, that miracle,
Of rose and sun, did blossom sweet,
And at her girdle-band in joy
Her traitor heart the swiftlier beat:
It stirred that tender sea to rise,
The waves of snow to surge and start:
They ran unchecked a moment's space,
Then broke in beauty on my heart!

It was a dream, but, Love, how sweet
Till Wakefulness on velvet feet
Cast shadows over all our bliss
And crept between the coming kiss.
But thou, O Sleep, bend down and give
My fevered frame apparent death;
Receive my hands, caress my brow,
And send the incense of thy breath
About my temples while I weep,
Sleep, lest thou shouldst not hear me, Sleep.

On aching balls that roam the room
Thus set thy seals as one who stirs
About the bedside of the dead
And weighs down rebel lids of eyes
That look beyond for Paradise
With silver circles from a purse:
And when thy spell is on me cast,
And thou from out my chamber passed,
If haply Wakefulness be near
Say not that I am sleeping, dear,
For oftentimes, methinks, her mood
Is wry, and not to do me good.
O God, 'twould better be if she
To wake me should delay too long,
And find with face all still and cold
Me unresponsive to her song!

The blind grows pale with dawn, and hark!
It is the matin of the lark.
Though there be virtue in thy touch
I will not pray thee overmuch,
Lest I should weary thee, and be
Cast out of all thy love by thee;
And, Sleep, I will not moan or weep
If thou wilt come to-morrow, Sleep.





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