Classic Poem

I used to lay my cheek upon the pillow,
Obeying thee, the calm was sweet and deep:
“Be thy last conscious thought of me in waking,
Ere thy soul sinks in sleep.”

O bitter, later nights, when still obeying,
My soul must needs its awful vigil keep,
Until at dawn the body failed in stupor—
A mockery of sleep.

Thou still art lord in death; for now in passing
My soul doth its obedient habit keep,
And its last conscious thought is thine this moment,
Sinking, thank God, in sleep!