Helen Gray Cone

(1859-1934 / United States)

To Sleep - Poem by Helen Gray Cone

All slumb'rous images that be, combined,
To this white couch and cool shall woo thee, Sleep!
First will I think on fields of grasses deep
In gray-green flower, o'er which the transient wind
Runs like a smile; and next will call to mind
How glistening poplar-tops, when breezes creep
Among their leaves, a tender motion keep,
Stroking the sky, like touch of lovers kind.

Ah, having felt thy calm kiss on mine eyes,
All night inspiring thy divine pure breath,
I shall awake as into godhood born,
And with a fresh, undaunted soul arise,
Clear as the blue convolvulus at morn.
-Dear bedfellow, deals thus thy brother, Death?

Listen to this poem:

Comments about To Sleep by Helen Gray Cone

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 22, 2010

[Report Error]