To Sleep
O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight,Shutting with careful fingers and benignOur gloom-pleased eyes, embowered 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 throwsAround my bed its lulling charities;
Then save me, or the passed day will shineUpon my pillow, breeding many woes;Save me from curious conscience, that still lordsIts strength, for darkness burrowing like a mole;Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,And seal the hushed casket of my soul.