ODE TO SLEEP.

1773.

I.

COME, gentle Sleep!

Balm of my wounds and softner of my woes,
And lull my weary heart in sweet repose,
And bid my sadden'd soul forget to weep,
And close the tearful eye;

While dewy eve with solemn sweep,
Hath drawn her fleecy mantle o'er the sky,
And chaced afar, adown th' ethereal way,
The din of bustling care and gaudy eye of day.

II.

Come, but thy leaden sceptre leave,

Thy opiate rod, thy poppies pale,

Dipp'd in the torpid fount of Lethe's stream,

That shroud with night each intellectual beam, And quench th' immortal fire, in deep Oblivion's

wave.

Yet draw the thick impervious veil

O'er all the scenes of tasted woe;

Command each cypress shade to flee;

Between this toil-worn world and me,

[low.

Display thy curtain broad, and hide the realms be

III.

Descend, and graceful in thy hand,
With thee bring thy magic wand,
And thy pencil, taught to glow
In all the hues of Iris' bow.

And call thy bright, aerial train,
Each fairy form and visionary shade,
That in the Elysian land of dreams,
The flower-enwoven banks along,

Or bowery maze, that shades the purple streams, Where gales of fragrance breathe th' enamour'd

song,

In more than mortal charms array'd, People the airy vales and revel in thy reign.

IV.

But drive afar the haggard crew, That haunt the guilt-encrimson'd bed, Or dim before the frenzied view

Stalk with slow and sullen tread;

While furies with infernal glare,

Wave their pale torches through the troubled air; And deep from Darkness' inmost womb,

Sad groans dispart the icy tomb,

And bid the sheeted spectre rise,

Mid shrieks and fiery shapes and deadly fantasies.

V.

Come and loose the mortal chain,

That binds to clogs of clay th' ethereal wing; And give th' astonish'd soul to rove,

Where never sunbeam stretch'd its wide domain; And hail her kindred forms above,

In fields of uncreated spring,

Aloft where realms of endless glory rise,

And rapture paints in gold the landscape of the skies.

VI.

Then through the liquid fields we'll climb,

Where Plato treads empyreal air,

Where daring Homer sits sublime,

And Pindar rolls his fiery car; Above the cloud-encircled hills,

Where high Parnassus lifts his airy head,

And Helicon's melodious rills

Flow gently through the warbling glade ;
And all the Nine, in deathless choir combined,
Dissolve in harmony th' enraptured mind,

And every bard, that tuned th' immortal lay,
Basks in th' ethereal blaze, and drinks celestial day.

VII.

Or call to my transported eyes

Happier scenes for lovers made,
Bid the twilight grove arise,

Lead the rivulet through the glade.

In some flowering arbor laid,

Where opening roses taste the honied dew,
And plumy songsters carol through the shade,
Recall my long-lost wishes to my view.

Bid Time's inverted glass return

The scenes of bliss with hope elate,
And hail the once expected morn,

And burst the iron bands of fate.

Graced with all her virgin charms,

Attractive smiles and past, responsive flame, ***** to my arms,

Restore my

Just to her vows and faithful to her fame.