To Slumber!

To Slumber, humbly thus I say,
Though hers has been a tiresome day,
If you could only stop awhile,
So I could hear her laugh, and smile,
And bring my pining heart respite,
From waiting whole day long and night!
Tis something queer, beyond my will,
How I could never have my fill,
Of basking in her sweet delights,
Of touch-wood hours and trifle fights.
Tell me how, well, if you may,
You steal her thus, afar, away?
Your vision, borrow, if I might,
To drench in nectar of the sight,
Of raven locks, untied and loose,
All tousled in her warm refuse,
In envy, watch the auburn tips,
Halt short of her ajar, full lips.
Her eyelids, twitching in some dream,
Enchanted by your spells they seem,
Along her ears, some curling strands,
Like wisps of zephyr in golden sands,
Though speech is silver, truth be told,
Her sleeping silence, regal gold!
Alas, this pleasure to my eyes,
The distance between us denies,
And all that I could have remain,
Some conversations, and disdain,
For you, O Slumber, why so soon,
Like clouds, you come to veil the moon,
And leave me in dark of the night,
To wallow in my wasteful plight?