Poems (Nealds)/Sonnet written during sickness and sorrow
SONNET,WRITTEN DURING SICKNESS AND SORROW.
In meditative mood I lie Upon my restless couch of pain;To close my weary eyes I try, And balmy sleep I court in vain.
For she, alas! too often flies From the sad wretch, a prey to woe,To light upon the beaming eyes Of those whose breasts with pleasure glow.Oh! seldom round my aching head Her poppy wreaths she deigns to twine,Or on my unclos'd lids to shed One drop of Lethe's dew benign.Each morning dawns upon my grief,And night, alas! brings no relief.