To Sleep Poem by William Wordsworth

To Sleep

Rating: 5.0


FOND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep
In rich reward all suffering; Balm that tames
All anguish; Saint that evil thoughts and aims
Takest away, and into souls dost creep,
Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone,
I surely not a man ungently made,
Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost?
Perverse, self-willed to own and to disown,
Mere slave of them who never for thee prayed,
Still last to come where thou art wanted most!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bhagabat Prasad Hotta 01 November 2018

THIS IS A FANTASTIC POEM. IT IS THE BEST OPPORTUNITY FOR ME.........

0 0 Reply
Rajendra Rout 01 November 2018

I agree with you Brother.lovely poem

0 0 Reply

William Wordsworth

Cumberland / England
BEST POEMS
BEST POETS
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success