Somnus, the humble god that dwells In cottages and smoky cells, Hates gilded roofs and beds of down; And, though he fears no prince's frown, Flies from the circle of a crown. Come, I say, thou powerful god, And thy leaden charming rod, Dipped in the Lethean lake, O'er his wakeful temples shake, Lest he should sleep and never wake. Nature, alas, why art thou so Obliged to thy greatest foe? Sleep, that is thy best repast, Yet of death it bears the taste, And both are the same thing at last. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAR IS KIND: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: FEBRUARY by EDMUND SPENSER PEPITA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 4. WORTHY MEMORY by WILLIAM BASSE ON HIS ENGAGEMENT TO BE MARRIED by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |