"Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care," Forsakes me, while the chill and sullen blast, As my sad soul recalls its sorrows past, Seems like a summons, bidding me prepare For the last sleep of death[.] -- Murmuring I hear The hollow wind around the ancient towers, While night and silence reign; and cold and drear The darkest gloom of Middle Winter lours; But wherefore fear existence such as mine, To change for long and undisturb'd repose? Ah! when this suffering being I resign, And o'er my miseries the tomb shall close, By her, whose loss in anguish I deplore, I shall be laid, and feel that loss no more! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: STATE'S ATTORNEY FALLAS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE FOX; FOR ANN PEARN by EDITH SITWELL EPIGRAM: TO FOOL, OR KNAVE by BEN JONSON BY THE PACIFIC OCEAN by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE CHARGE OF THE HEAVY BRIGADE AT BALACLAVA: THE CHARGE by ALFRED TENNYSON HASCHEESH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: LOVE IS WISER THAN AMBITION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES AS FROM THE PAST -- by WILLIAM ROSE BENET HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 43 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |