‘Twas on the first forsaken hour
Of morning bleak, I dare say black
‘Twas then that thought’s mistaken powers
Were false imputed things they lack.
Those memories of joy avail
Of darkness, in this task they fail.
Remembrances of rising rays—
Radiant—but provoke the pains.
For soon I’ll see those rising rays
Peeking o’er the terrene bend,
And the sun who serves for sizing days
Will measure out this day’s vain end.
Alone I sit without a friend,
With vainly verse profanely penned,
Cursing dawn and dusk as sleep,
My absent ally, awake me keeps.
Alas, for even she comes not—
In her I’m also friendship wanting.
Her wanton ways leave me unwrought
With me my heinous horrors haunting,
Through drably clad and shaded night
I hag-like sleep engage in plight.
Men’s mild minds she’ll lay in haze,
But thought her ghost—not pain—it lays.
Older days do I remember
When wife with placid wit would with me
Set at naught these nights in November
And set us from all nightmare’s pith free.
Then horrid, wretched sleep did absent
From her profligate comportment
Abandoned—she took on sweeter guise
That did not demise the demonized.
That sweeter sleep knew not this hubris,
No priest can profligate the new miss
Who by her absence makes minds crave her.
And oft she lies upon a man
To abdicate her evil—her plan—
To pass it to that victim’s mind
And fill him with foul dreams of ill kind.
But thoughts of old keep me awake,
In wakeful dreams they tell the tales
Of brighter days that yet betake
My heart to darker hellish wails.
That demoness’ demise, it haunts me!
Those visions that she brings, they daunt me!
O how I wish I never knew her!
How I long for the Lethy cure!
But sleep, most welcome sleep, will come
And all my corporeal creature still.
My dolor’s demise, my dreams undone—
This my soul shall with the cure fill.
And so I lie awake awaiting
That one wench, the other dreading.
Come most welcome sleep, my friend,
And take me o’er the radiant bend.