To Sleep – By: John Keats

O soft embalmer of the still midnight,

     Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,

Our gloom-pleas’d 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 passed 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 oiled wards,

And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.

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How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel

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