Thomas Warton Jr.

(9 January 1728 — 21 May 1790 / Basingstoke)

Ode To Sleep - Poem by Thomas Warton Jr.

On this my pensive pillow, gentle Sleep!
Descend, in all thy downy plumage drest:
Wipe with thy wing these eyes that wake to weep,
And place thy crown of poppies on my breast.

O steep my senses in oblivion's balm,
And sooth my throbbing pulse with lenient hand;
This tempest of my boiling blood becalm!
Despair grows mild at thy supreme command.

Yet ah! in vain, familiar with the gloom,
And sadly toiling through the tedious night,
I seek sweet slumber, while that virgin bloom,
For ever hovering, haunts my wretched sight.

Nor would the dawning day my sorrows charm:
Black midnight and the blaze of noon alike
To me appear, while with uplifted arm
Death stands prepar'd, but still delays, to strike.

Comments about Ode To Sleep by Thomas Warton Jr.

  • Gold Star - 5,486 Points Patricia Grantham (5/24/2013 8:13:00 AM)

    A very soothing poem about sleep and so
    magnificently expressed. Truly enjoyed it. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Chipper Williams (5/2/2013 2:35:00 AM)

    Love it! I totally love it. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: despair, sleep, death, ode, night, sorrow

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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