'Tis hard on Bagshot Heath to try Unclos'd to keep the weary eye; But ah! Oblivion's nod to get In rattling coach is harder yet. Slumbrous God of half shut eye! Who lov'st with Limbs supine to lie; Soother sweet of toil and care Listen, listen to my prayer; And to thy votary dispense Thy soporific influence! What tho' around thy drowsy head The seven-fold cap of night be spread, Yet lift that drowsy head awhile And yawn propitiously a smile; In drizzly rains poppean dews O'er the tir'd inmates of the Coach diffuse; And when thou'st charm'd our eyes to rest Pillowing the chin upon the breast, Bid many a dream from thy dominions Wave its various-painted pinions, Till ere the splendid visions close We snore quartettes in ecstacy of nose. While thus we urge our airy course, Oh may no jolt's electric force Our fancies from their steeds unhorse, And call us from thy fairy reign To dreary Bagshot Heath again! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMPRESSIONS OF FRANCOIS-MARIE AROUET (DE VOLTAIRE) by EZRA POUND AND WHAT SHALL YOU SAY? by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 20 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SURCEASE by ALICE GARDNER ADAMS SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 42. 'GRECIAN AND ENGLISH' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |