Part 3 of my spring series 2021
Inspired by a excerpts from
"The Athenaeum", August 11, 1832
Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
And from my fingers flow
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine
Might then have charmed his agony
my heart bleeds for thine.