WHEN wearied wretches sink to sleep, How heavenly soft their slumbers lie! How sweet is death to those who weep, To those who weep and long to die! Saw you the soft and grassy bed, Where flow'rets deck the green earth's breast? 'Tis there I wish to lay my head, 'Tis there I wish to sleep at rest! Oh! let not tears embalm my tomb, None but the dews by twilight given! Oh! let not sighs disturb the gloom, None but the whispering winds of heaven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EUROPE; THE 72ND AND 73RD YEARS OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN CLIFTON by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 20. ELEGIAC VRSE: THE THIRD EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |