SLEEP.

Come to me soft-eyed sleep,

With your ermine sandalled feet;

Press the pain from my troubled brow

With your kisses cool and sweet;

Lull me with slumbrous song,

Song of your clime, the blest,

While on my heavy eyelids

Your dewy fingers rest.

Come with your native flowers,

Heartsease and lotus bloom,

Enwrap my weary senses

With the cloud of their perfume;

For the whispers of thought tire me,

Their constant, dull repeat,

Like low waves throbbing, sobbing,

With endless, endless beat.