Poems (Pizey)/To Sleep
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For works with similar titles, see To Sleep.
TO SLEEP.
Oh Sleep! thou blessed messenger of peace,
I hail thy soft approach with real joy,
For in thy arms my weight of sorrows cease,
And happiness is mine, without alloy.
I hail thy soft approach with real joy,
For in thy arms my weight of sorrows cease,
And happiness is mine, without alloy.
I live again those haleyon days of rest,
I hear again the voice of her I lov'd,
I lean again on that supporting breast,
I tread again where we together rov'd.
I hear again the voice of her I lov'd,
I lean again on that supporting breast,
I tread again where we together rov'd.
Again I feel pure pleasure's mantling glow,
Again it cheers this heart, oppressed by care;
But morn brings back the chilling frost of woe,
For peace has long resign'd its dwelling there.
Again it cheers this heart, oppressed by care;
But morn brings back the chilling frost of woe,
For peace has long resign'd its dwelling there.
Thou emblem of the silent peaceful grave,
Thou wer't the harbinger of joy to me,
If in thy pleasing visions I could live,
Nor wake from them but to eternity.
Thou wer't the harbinger of joy to me,
If in thy pleasing visions I could live,
Nor wake from them but to eternity.