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O soft embalmer of the still midnight
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
out gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
O soothest sleep! if so it please thee, close
In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes
Or wait the Amen, ere thy poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities;
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
Save me from curious conscience, that still hoardes
Its strength from darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed casket of my soul
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