BY MICHAEL FIELD
Come, dark-eyed Sleep, thou child of Night,
Give me thy dreams, thy lies;
Lead through the horny portal white
The pleasure day denies.
O bring the kiss I could not take
From lips that would not give;
Bring me the heart I could not break,
The bliss for which I live.
I care not if I slumber blest
By fond delusion; nay,
Put me on Phaon's lips to rest,
And cheat the cruel day!
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