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O soft embalmer of the still midnight! Shutting with careful fingers and benign Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine; O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities; Then save me, or the passèd day will shine Upon my pillow, breeding many woes; Save me from curious conscience, that still lords Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, And seal the hushèd casket of my soul.
This poem is in the public domain.
About This Poem
"To Sleep" was published in The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900 (Clarendon Press, 1900).
John Keats was born on October 31, 1795, in London, England. His collections of poetry include Endymion: A Poetic Romance (Taylor and Hessey, 1818) and Lamia, Isabella, the Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems (Taylor and Hessey, 1820). He died on February 23, 1821.
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