Lethe (A Broken Sonnet) Poem by John May

HE EDGED carefully by foot Lethe's deep
Where those who drank were oblivion fraught;
Unaware of the wake and far from sleep,
There inly arose this, his tempted thought:

What blissful state attends her solemn brook
Where with one single sip woes wash away-
And pain too, hidden pain, flushed from its nook-
If only by tasting I taste this day?
What harm could hither come to me by dream,
Or ill fate posit this slumbering night?

So he palmed lethal liquid from her stream
When just before the fatal sip, a sight!
There, etched into a whitened cypress tree,
Pale words: Before you drink, remember me.