Sleep
Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary’s prayer,
And, though death’s image, to my couch repair;
How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie,
And, without dying, O how sweet to die!
More poems by John Wolcot
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The Pilgrims and the Peas
A Brace of sinners, for no good,
Were ordered to the Virgin Mary’s shrine,
Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood, … -
The Razor-Seller
A Fellow in a market-town,
Most musical, cried razors up and down,
And offered twelve for eighteen pence; … -
To Chloe
An Apology for Going into the Country
CHLOE, we must not always be in heaven,
Forever toying, ogling, kissing, billing; …