Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
W. Wordsworth
CCLXVI. To Sleep
A FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by 
  One after one; the sound of rain, and bees 
  Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, 
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky— 
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie         5
  Sleepless; and soon the small birds' melodies 
  Must hear, first utter'd from my orchard trees, 
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry. 
Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay, 
  And could not win thee, Sleep, by any stealth:  10
So do not let me wear to-night away. 
  Without thee what is all the morning's wealth? 
Come, blessed barrier between day and day, 
  Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health! 
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