Sleeplessness

A Flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one; the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;— I ’ve thought of all by turns, and still I lie Sleepless; and soon the small birds’ melodies Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees, And the first cuckoo’s melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay, And could not win thee, Sleep, by any stealth: So do not let me wear to-night away; Without thee what is all the morning’s wealth? Come, blessèd barrier between day and day, Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!