Ode to Sleep. Intended as a Chorus in a Tragedy
Soft sleep, profoundly pleasing pow'r,
Sweet patron of the peaceful hour,
O, listen from thy calm abode,
And hither wave thy magic rod:
Extend thy silent, soothing sway,
And charm the canker care away.
Whether thou lov'st to glide along,
Attended by an airy throng
Of gentle dreams and smiles of joy,
Such as adorn the wanton boy;
Or to the monarch's fancy bring
Delights that better suit a king;
The glitt'ring host, the groaning plain,
The clang of arms, and victor's train.
Or should a milder vision please,
Present the happy scenes of peace:
Plump autumn, blushing all around,
Rich industry with toil embrown'd;
Content with brow serenely gay,
And genial art's refulgent ray.
Sweet patron of the peaceful hour,
O, listen from thy calm abode,
And hither wave thy magic rod:
Extend thy silent, soothing sway,
And charm the canker care away.
Whether thou lov'st to glide along,
Attended by an airy throng
Of gentle dreams and smiles of joy,
Such as adorn the wanton boy;
Or to the monarch's fancy bring
Delights that better suit a king;
The glitt'ring host, the groaning plain,
The clang of arms, and victor's train.
Or should a milder vision please,
Present the happy scenes of peace:
Plump autumn, blushing all around,
Rich industry with toil embrown'd;
Content with brow serenely gay,
And genial art's refulgent ray.
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