Sleep, Silence’ child, sweet father of soft rest,1
Prince whose approach peace to all mortals brings,2
Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings,3
Sole comforter of minds which are opprest.4
Lo ! by thy charming rod all breathing things5
Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possest,6
And yet o’er me to spread thy drowsy wings7
Thou spars’st alas, who cannot be thy guest.8
Since I am thine, O come, but with that face9
To inward light which thou art wont to show,10
With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe ;11
Or it, deaf god, thou do deny that grace,12
Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath,13
I long to kiss the image of my death.14