Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON SLEEP, by ISABELLA LICKBARROW


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON SLEEP, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Come ye deep shades of night, that from the view
Last Line: And thou canst look, and speak, and charm my heart.
Subject(s): Sleep


Come ye deep shades of night, that from the view
Of an unpitying world the wretched shroud,
That give the harass'd limbs of toil repose,
And bid the way-worn trav'ller turn, and seek
Some place of shelter for his houseless head:
That the tired soldier, from his weary march,
And from the dreadful field of war and death,
A while release; come thou sad mourner night,
I love thy darkness, or the pensive beam
The moon's pale lustre sheds upon thy brow.
Now when the clouded light of day presents
Our eyes with nought but scenes of desolation,
I love thee for thy gentle hand-maid Sleep,
Who seals in sweet forgetfulness our eyes,
Transports us from life's sad realities,
To tranquil scenes of happiness and peace.
Such is the mighty necromancer's power
Who o'er Sleep's vast ideal realms presides,
That when from our cold clime is swept away
Each summer grace, his pow'rful wand can raise
A lovelier landscape, cloth'd in brighter hues—
Can such magnificence, such charms display,
As waking fancy's boldest thoughts ne'er fram'd—
That pow'rful wand, whose touch can quick erase
The past and present from our memory,
And drive the intruding future from our thoughts;
While visions fair of momentary joy,
Unreal as the seeming silver lake
Which cheats the trav'ller o'er Arabian sands,
Seem permanent the portion of our lives.
Oh I have felt such sweet tranquillity,
Such pure sensations of sincere delight,
As if that instant into being wak'd,
With feelings tun'd to joy, and joy alone,
I almost wish'd life could be spent in dreams.
Yet the magician too can be unkind,
Can shut this gay ideal paradise.
Those pleasing regions he displays no more,
But bids around me scenes unlovely rise.

A dear and honour'd guest would frequent come;
And speak in tones so long and well remember'd,
Which once were wont to gladden my young heart,
That days of early pleasure seem'd returned.
In youthful grace, with sweet engaging smile,
Another form belov'd was wont to pay
A short and welcome visit to my dreams;
But comes no more—dear semblance of a friend,
Whom death has hid for ever from my view,
Since I must never more on earth behold
The lov'd original, nor find again
Another friend so faithful and so kind,
Come lovely vision to my dreams once more.
Thou bear'st his image, tho' an empty shade,
And thou canst look, and speak, and charm my heart.





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