Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
IV. Morphia
By David Gray (1838–1861)
O PRECIOUS morphia! I sanctify
  The soothing power that in a painless swoon
Laps my weak limbs, giving me strength to lie,
  Till sacred dawn increases until noon:
Then when, from his meridional height,        5
  The sun devolves, and cooling breezes wake,
It is a comfort and divine delight
  The weary bed exhausted to forsake,
And bathe my temples in the blessed air.
  But when day wanes and the wind-moaning night        10
Deepens to darkness, then thy virtue rare,
  O dream-creative liquid! brings delight,
Thy silver drops diffusive kindly steep
The senses in the golden juice of sleep.

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