Анна Сьюард (Anna Seward)

Sonnet 13. Thou child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep

Thou child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep,
    Shed thy soft poppies on my aching brow!
    And charm to rest the thoughts of whence, or how
    Vanish'd that priz'd Affection, wont to keep
Each grief of mine from rankling into woe.
    Then stern Misfortune from her bended bow
    Loos'd the dire strings;—and Care, and anxious Dread
    From my cheer'd heart, on sullen pinion, fled.
But now, the spell dissolv'd, th' Enchantress gone,
    Ceaseless those cruel Fiends infest my day,
    And sunny hours but light them to their prey.
Then welcome Midnight shades, when thy wish'd boon
    May in oblivious dews my eye-lids steep,
    Thou Child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep!

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