Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Sleep

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For works with similar titles, see Sleep.
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Poems, Volume II by Florence Earle Coates
Sleep

SLEEP

To "the Child in us that trembles before death."—Plato.

SAY, hast thou never been compelled to lie
 Wakeful in Night's impenetrable deep,
 Counting the laggard moments that so creep
Reluctant onward; till, with voiceless cry
Enduring, thou hadst willing been to fly
 From Life itself, and in oblivion steep
 Thy tortured senses? To such longed-for sleep
Death is a way; and dost thou fear to die?


Nay, were it this, just this, and naught beside—
 Merely the calm that we have anguished for,
The wayfarer might still be glad to hide
 From grief and suffering!—but how much more
Is Death—Life's servitor and friend—the guide
 That safely ferries us from shore to shore!