Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem/sonnet: Sleep

Birds of Passage by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A BOOK OF SONNETS - Sleep
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Sleep Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful sound Seems from some faint Aeolian harp-string caught; Seal up the hundred wakeful eyes of thought As Hermes with his lyre in sleep profound The hundred wakeful eyes of Argus bound; For I am weary, and am overwrought With too much toil, with too much care distraught, And with the iron crown of anguish crowned. Lay thy soft hand upon my brow and cheek, O peaceful Sleep! until from pain released I breathe again uninterrupted breath! Ah, with what subtile meaning did the Greek Call thee the lesser mystery at the feast Whereof the greater mystery is death! Content of A BOOK OF SONNETS: Sleep [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem collection: Birds of Passage] Read next: A BOOK OF SONNETS#The Old Bridge at Florence Read previous: A BOOK OF SONNETS#A Nameless Grave Table of content of Birds of Passage GO TO TOP OF SCREEN Post your review Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book

Birds of Passage by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow