War and Love/Sleep

by Richard Aldington

For works with similar titles, see Sleep.

 

SLEEP

If but to sleep alone be fair    As poets say,How piercing sweet to lie all night    Until the dayWith all her flower-like body pressed    Close unto mine,To feel her moving heart, to taste    Her breath like wine,To hold her pointed, smooth, soft breast    In one firm handAnd let the other lie at rest    In love's own land.

Ah, it were good to cease and die    So sweet a way,Never to waken from her bed    To the chill day,But sleep forever in a dream    Head beside head,Warm in a golden swoon of love—    Divinely dead.