Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SLEEP; SONNET, by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW



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SLEEP; SONNET, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful sounds
Last Line: Whereof the greater mystery is death!


Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful sound
Seems from some faint Aeolian harp-string caught;
Seal up the hundred wakeful eyes of thought
As Hermes with his lyre in sleep profound
The hundred wakeful eyes of Argus bound;
For I am weary, and am overwrought
With too much toil, with too much care distraught,
And with the iron crown of anguish crowned.
Lay thy soft hand upon my brow and cheek,
O peaceful Sleep! until from pain released
I breathe again uninterrupted breath!
Ah, with what subtile meaning did the Greek
Call thee the lesser mystery at the feast
Whereof the greater mystery is death!





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