Classic Poem

I.

SLEEP, balmy sleep, has clos'd the eyes of all
But me! ah me! no respite can I gain;
Tho' darkness reigns o'er the terrestrial ball,
Not one soft slumber cheats this vital pain.

II.

All day in secret sighs I've pour'd my soul,
My downy pillow, us'd to scenes of grief,
Beholds me now in floods of sorrow roll,
Without the power to yield his pains relief:

III.

While through the silence of this gloomy night,
My aching heart reverb'rates every groan;
And watching by that glimmering taper's light,
I make each sigh, each mortal pang my own.

IV.

But why should I implore sleep's friendly aid?
O'er me her poppies shed no ease impart;
But dreams of dear departing joys invade,
And rack with fears my sad prophetick heart.

V.

But vain is prophesy when death's approach,
Thro' years of pain, has sap'd a dearer life,
And makes me, coward like, myself reproach,
That e'er I knew the tender name of wife.

VI.

Oh! could I take the fate to him assign'd!
And leave the helpless family their head!
How pleas'd, how peaceful, to my lot resign'd,
I'd quit the nurse's station for the bed.

VII.

O death! thou canker-worm of human joy!
Thou cruel foe to sweet domestick peace!
He soon shall come, who shall thy shafts destroy,
And cause thy dreadful ravages to cease.

VIII.

Yes, the Redeemer comes to wipe the tears,
The briny tears, from every weeping eye.
And death and sin, and doubts, and gloomy fears,
Shall all be lost in endless victory.