Classic Poem

Good night, my heart.
Thou in the bosom of the delicate down perchance dost sink thy limbs in delicious forgetfulness; and I below here temper my heart in tears, alas, and send my soul up to thee.
Good night, my heart.
Good night, my heart.
Yes, thou dost sleep, but not thy worshipper, or if the quivered god grants truce to my weary eyes, my bitter fate doth haunt me in a thousand shapes.
Good night, my heart.
Good night, my heart.
Yet for a little space at least thou dost grant comfort to my o'er-laboured breast, and I am never weary of sighing for thee, nor do I turn aside one jot from my fidelity.
Good night, my heart.
Good night, my heart.
Sleep then, oh sleep, and may Love sleep with thee, O my soul's sweet desire, and may no shadow or horror of phantom night disturb thy rest.
Farewell, I go.
Good night, my heart.