Poetry Archives

Let me sleep on! I would not waken yet,
Or leave too soon the peaceful realm of dreams!
There, lulled by placid Lethe, I forget
The tumult raging on Earth’s roaring streams;
Doubt not that, later, I shall surely meet
With steadfast soul Day’s ceaseless, sordid strife,
But now I crave again that strangely sweet
    Oblivion of life;—

That tranquil sleep, whose cooling shadow stills
The throbbing forehead and the fevered brain,
Which soothes to rest all sense of present ills,
Of poignant sorrow and persistent pain;
O gift divine, O boon beyond compare,
God’s benediction at the evening’s close,
The antidote of grief, the cure of care,
    The kingdom of repose!

Too late … the spell is broken … I awake;
How swift the rush of memory’s turning tide,
Whose ruthless waves the will’s frail barriers break,
And flood the cells where consciousness would hide!
Alas, how mad and fierce the world appears!
How dark and ominous the future seems!
I rise to face them … yet recall through tears
    The quiet land of dreams.