Phaon: Dark-Eyed Sleep

child of Night, Come in thy shadow garment to my couch, And with thy soothing touch, Cool as the vesper breeze, Grant that I may forget; Bestow condign release, A taste of rest that comes with endless sleep; Lure off the haunting dreams, The dire Eumenides That torture my repose. For I would live a space Though Phaon has forsaken me, nor yet Be found on shadow fields Among the lilies tall Of pale Persephone.