Parerga/Prayer to Sleep

PRAYER TO SLEEP.

"Crimine quo merui juvenis, placidissime Divûm,"&c. &c.Sylv. Lib. V. 24.

What have I done, most gentle Deity?What ignorant sin has thus offended thee,That I alone of living things must mournThy gifts denied, youth's slumbers from me torn?Thou blessest all besides;—the flocks have rest,The wild beasts, and each bird within its nest:The very trees a drowsy stillness keep,And their curved heads bow low, as if with sleep;The rapid river pauses from its roar;The calm sea leans upon the sloping shore,And slumbers, in serene forgetfulnessOf all the storms that lash'd its fierce distress.Seven anxious nights returning to her throneHath Cynthia now with pitying glances shoneO'er my wan cheek and stiffening eyelids pale;Seven times the star that lights th' Hesperian vale,And that which welcomes the approach of day,Have lit their heavenly lamps and died away; As oft Aurora, crimsoning the sky,Hath pour'd o'er my hot brow and fever'd eyeAll the chill freshness of her morning air,Touch'd by my sad and sleep-imploring prayer;Yet slumber comes not! How shall I sustainThis ceaseless weight of unreposing pain?———Perhaps even now some lover, deeply blest,Is folding the Beloved one to his breast,And strives Love's vigil through the night to keep,Shunning thy soft advances, gentle Sleep.Oh, come from him, who loves thee not, to me!———I dare not, Mighty Power, demand of theeOn full-spread pinions hovering o'er my bedO'er these sad eyes thy choicest balm to shed:Others, more fortunate, may pray for this—I only crave the faintest touch of blissFrom thy suspended wand.———Pass lightly o'er,But come, oh come, sweet Sleep!—I ask no more.