TO SLEEP
by: John Keats (1795-1821)
- SOFT embalmer
of the still midnight!
- Shutting with careful fingers and benign
- Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light,
- Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
- O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
- In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
- Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws
- Around my bed its lulling charities;
- Then save me, or the passèd day will shine
- Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
- Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
- Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
- Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards,
- And seal the hushèd casket of my soul.
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POEMS BY JOHN KEATS |
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