94
In vain I court long absent sleep,
For one short hour to spread
The balm of sweet forgetfulness
Around my aching head.
For one short hour to spread
The balm of sweet forgetfulness
Around my aching head.
When fainting half, in fancied ease,
My heavy eyes I close,
And think the soft restorer near,
Breathing benign repose,—
My heavy eyes I close,
And think the soft restorer near,
Breathing benign repose,—
Then quick returning watchfulness
Destroys the transient rest,
And misery lays her cruel hand
Once more upon my breast.
Destroys the transient rest,
And misery lays her cruel hand
Once more upon my breast.
Now frantic thoughts fly through my brain
By fiercer anguish driven,
The strife it cannot long sustain,—
It sues to Hope—to Peace, in vain:—
No consolation 's given!
By fiercer anguish driven,
The strife it cannot long sustain,—
It sues to Hope—to Peace, in vain:—
No consolation 's given!
No succouring hand supports me now,
My soul to wretchedness must bow,
And feel Distraction's force;
For pangs still fiercer, and unknown,
Rend Reason from her ruined throne,
While all the struggling fibres groan,
And I in phrensy toss;—
My soul to wretchedness must bow,
And feel Distraction's force;
For pangs still fiercer, and unknown,
Rend Reason from her ruined throne,
While all the struggling fibres groan,
And I in phrensy toss;—
