Hence, ye disturbers of my sleep, No more my weary body bite, Begone, ye rogues, your distance keep, And let me snore away the night. What! will ye sip the crimson flood, Ye hopping, jumping, ugly crew? Will nothing please you but my blood? And that let out in torrents, too. Well, take your fill, ye thirsty elves, You have my leave, though to my sorrow; Drink, scoundrels, drink, and burst yourselves, That I may have some sleep to-morrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY BEFORE DEATH by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY IMITATION OF CHAUCER by ALEXANDER POPE GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN by WALT WHITMAN INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS SPRING SONG by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT THE UNKNOWN GOD by CHARLES GRANGER BLANDEN AT A FUNERAL by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |