 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
507
SLEEP
Thou drowsy god, whose blurred eyes, half awink,Muse on me,—drifting out upon thy dreams,
I have my soul as in enchanted streams
Where reveling satyrs pipe along the brink,
And, tipsy with the melody they drink,
Uplift their dangling hooves and down the beams
Of sunshine dance like motes. Thy languor seems
An ocean-depth of love wherein I sink
Like some fond Argonaut, right willingly,—
Because of wooing eyes upturned to mine,
And siren-arms that coil their sorcery
About my neck, with kisses so divine,
The heavens reel above me, and the sea
Swallows and licks its wet lips over me.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |