NOCTURNE by WILFRED OWEN
Now, as the warm approach of honied slumber blurs my sense, Before I yield me to th'enchantment of my bed, God rest all souls in toil and turbulence, All men a-weary seeking bread; God rest them all tonight! Let sleep expunge The day's monotonous vistas from their sight; And let them plunge Deep down the dusky firmament of reverie And drowse of dreams with me.
Ah! I should drowse away the night most peacefully But that there toil too many bodies unreposed Who fain would fall on lethargy; Too many leaden eyes unclosed; And aching hands amove Interminably, Beneath the light that night will not remove; Too many brains that rave in dust and steam! They rave, but cannot dream!
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|Author||Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918)|
|Copyright||The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted.|
|First line||Now, as the warm approach of honied slumber blurs my sense,|
|Publication source||The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen|
|Publication editor||Stallworthy, Jon|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|