European Elegies/Winter/A vain appeal
30.A VAIN APPEAL
O Sleep, thou gentle son of shadowy Night,Dewy and silent, thou that bringest peaceTo fevered mortals and serene releaseFrom the harsh tyranny of life's mad might,Help now my heart, that sickens with the blightOf sleepless hours, my limbs whose pains increase;Fly hither, Sleep, to bid my sorrows cease;Brood with thy dusky wings upon my sight!
Where now is silence, fugitive from dayAnd sunshine? Where are the light dreams that sportWith hesitating feet about thy way?Alas, in vain I call and vainly courtThese vague and chilling shades! Sleep has no swayO'er my hard couch, my nights grim past support.
From the Italian of Giovanni della Casa.