Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.
Before SleepSir Thomas Browne (16051682)
T
Depart not thou, great God, away,
Let not my sins, black as the night,
Eclipse the lustre of thy light.
Keep still in my horizon; for to me
The sun makes not the day, but thee.
Thou, whose nature cannot sleep,
On my temples sentry keep;
Guard me ’gainst those watchful foes
Whose eyes are open while mine close.
Let no dreams my head infest
But such as Jacob’s temples blest.
While I do rest, my soul advance,
Make my sleep a holy trance,
That I may, my rest being wrought,
Awake into some holy thought,
And with as active vigor run
My course, as doth (be nimble sun,
Sleep is a death; O make me try
By sleeping, what it is to die:
And as gently lay my head
On my grave, as now my bed.
Howe’er I rest, great God, let me
Awake again at least with thee;
And thus assured, behold I lie
Secure, or to awake or die.
These are my drowsy days; in vain
I do now wake to sleep again:—
O come that hour, when I shall never
Sleep again, but wake forever.