XII. AERIAL Rock-whose solitary brow Of an imperial Castle, which the plough That doth presume no more than to supply XIII. TO SLEEP. O GENTLE Sleep! do they belong to thee, These twinklings of oblivion? Thou dost love To sit in meekness, like the brooding Dove, A Captive never wishing to be free. This tiresome night, O Sleep! thou art to me Now on the water vexed with mockery. O gentle Creature! do not use me so, XIV. TO SLE E P. A FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by, Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees; Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth? XV. TO SLEEP. FOND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep! Like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone, Call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost? XVI. THE WILD DUCK'S NEST. THE Imperial Consort of the Fairy King Of golden leaves inlaid with silver down, Fine as the Mother's softest plumes allow : I gaze |