The Promise Of Sleep – Amy Levy 

Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, 

The dreams from out thy breast; 

No joy for thee–but thou shalt find 

Thy rest 
All day I could not work for woe, 
I could not work nor rest; 

The trouble drove me to and fro, 

Like a leaf on the storm’s breast. 
Night came and saw my sorrow cease; 

Sleep in the chamber stole; 

Peace crept about my limbs, and peace 

Fell on my stormy soul. 
And now I think of only this,– 

How I again may woo 

The gentle sleep– who promises 

That death is gentle too.

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