LIFE-WEARINESS
Last night, much tired with work and anxious thought,
When I at last upon my couch reclined,
Discouragement so evilly had wrought
On throbbing heart and overwearied mind,—
'Twere well, I said, if I woke nevermore
From that deep slumber which will soon be mine,
For in life's combat, until all is o'er,
Aid comes not, either human or divine:
What solace or delight doth fate provide
For the expense of so much painful breath,
Since all must reach at last oblivion's tide,
And good and ill alike are paid with death!
And then I slept and dreamt a happy dream
Of a sunny landscape and a murmuring stream.
When I at last upon my couch reclined,
Discouragement so evilly had wrought
On throbbing heart and overwearied mind,—
'Twere well, I said, if I woke nevermore
From that deep slumber which will soon be mine,
For in life's combat, until all is o'er,
Aid comes not, either human or divine:
What solace or delight doth fate provide
For the expense of so much painful breath,
Since all must reach at last oblivion's tide,
And good and ill alike are paid with death!
And then I slept and dreamt a happy dream
Of a sunny landscape and a murmuring stream.