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Ode To Sleep

Rating: 2.6
Gentle divinity, how have I merited?
Whither, unfortunate wretch, have I strayed,
Thus of thy bounty to lie disenherited -
I alone whilst every other is paid?
Sleeping are cattle and birds without number,
Beasts of the wilderness rest in their lair;
Even the hills, as if weary, feign slumber,
Even the torment sighs soft in the air.

Lulled are the shuttering waves of the ocean,
Seas in the lap of the land lie at peace.
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