Penguin Crossing
"To Sleep" by John Keats


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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