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Read more poems by John Keats: John Keats Poems at Poetry X.

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To Sleep

John Keats

O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
    Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,
    Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close
    In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,
Or wait the "Amen," ere thy poppy throws
    Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes,--
    Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
    Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.

Added: 15 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 19 Jul 2018 1:02 PM | Viewed: 10639 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1799/ | Viewed on 19 July 2018.
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