O SLEEP, O tranquil son of noiseless Night, Of humid, shadowy Night; O dear repose For wearied men, forgetfulness of woes Grievous enough the bloom of life to blight! Succor this heart that hath outworn delight, And knows no rest; these tired limbs compose; Fly to me, Sleep; thy dusky vans disclose Over my languid eyes, then cease thy flight. Where, where is Silence, that avoids the day? Where the light dreams, that with a wavering tread And unsubstantial footing follow thee? Alas! in vain I call thee; and these gray, These frigid shades flatter in vain. O bed, How rough with thorns! O nights, how harsh to me! (@3John Addington Symonds@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 15 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO A DOG'S MEMORY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY THE SELF-UNSEEING by THOMAS HARDY TO THE SAME PURPOSE by THOMAS TRAHERNE ENIGMA. TO THE LADIES by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A SONG OF APPLE-BLOOM by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |