Monday, August 18, 2014

keats, ?ennit/innit?

KEATS   To Sleep
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.