Ah, Sleep, to me thou com'st not in the guise br Of one who brings good gifts to weary men, br Balm for bruised hearts and fancies alien br To unkind truth, and drying for sad eyes. br I dread the summons to that fierce assize br Of all my foes and woes, that waits me when br Thou mak'st my soul the unwilling denizen br Of thy dim troubled house where unrest lies. br br My soul is sick with dreaming, let it rest. br False Sleep, thou hast conspired with Wakefulness, br I will not praise thee, I too long beguiled br With idle tales.