The hours are passing slow, br I hear their weary tread br Clang from the tower, and go br Back to their kinsfolk dead. br Sleep! death's twin brother dread! br Why dost thou scorn me so? br The wind's voice overhead br Long wakeful here I know, br And music from the steep br Where waters fall and flow. br Wilt thou not hear sue, Sleep? br br All sounds that might bestow br Rest on the fever'd bed, br All slumb'rous sounds and low br Are mingled here and wed, br And bring no drowsihed. br Shy dreams flit to and fro br With shadowy hair dispread; br With wistful eyes that glow, br And silent robes that sweep. br Thou wilt not hear me; no? br Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep? br br What cause hast thou to show br Of sacrifice unsped? br Of all thy slaves below br I most have laboured br With service sung and said; br Have cull'd such buds as blow, br Soft poppies white and red, br Where thy still gardens grow, br And Lethe's waters weep. br Why, then, art thou my foe? br Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep? br br ENVOY.