| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | VII. To Sleep | | By John Keats (1795–1821) |
| | | O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight! | |
| Shutting with careful fingers and benign | |
| Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light, | |
| Enshaded in forgetfulness divine, | |
| O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, | 5 |
| In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, | |
| Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws | |
| Around my head its lulling charities; | |
| Then save me, or the passed day will shine | |
| Upon my pillow, breeding many woes; | 10 |
| Save me from curious conscience, that still lords | |
| Its strength, for darkness burrowing like a mole; | |
| Turn the key deftly in the oiléd wards, | |
| And seal the hushéd casket of my soul. | | | | |
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