Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, The dreams from out thy breast ; No joy for thee -- but thou shalt find Thy rest ALL day I could not work for woe, I could not work nor rest ; The trouble drove me to and fro, Like a leaf on the storm's breast. Night came and saw my sorrow cease ; Sleep in the chamber stole ; Peace crept about my limbs, and peace Fell on my stormy soul. And now I think of only this, -- How I again may woo The gentle sleep -- who promises That death is gentle too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BOARD THE '76; WRITTEN FOR BRYANT'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS THE OLD FERRYMAN by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM |