Poetry of Kansas

Sleep.

SWEET sleep, blest boon to wasting forms, of clay!
To soothe man's troubled brow at close of day;
To lift the burdens from his weary frame,
And bless in sleep mankind of every name.
 
The troubled mind, high tossing as the sea,
The weary, plodding steps, unbending knee,
The sorrowed and distressed of all the earth
It well transforms into another birth;
 
Repairs the wasted flesh and weary bone,
The grand exterior of the soul's bright home;
It lulls to rest the grievings of the mind,
Forgetful of the mishaps left behind;
 
Regains tranquillity to all the man
And with refreshing dreams his soul expands___
In reaching far above the troubled earth,
From out its miry, darkening maze of dearth.
 
When thus out from beneath the curtained night
We stand renewed in smiles of morning light,-
With muscle strong, and brain and nerve, we meet
The dire demands amid life's sailing fleet,
 
While through the coming nights of dreary time
We shall be sober kept in reason's line;
Else soon indeed, without repose and rest,
Mankind would lose his reason at the best;
 
Would sink far down impoverished without strength,
And die from long and needed rest at length;
Weary in body and in mind and soul,
When life should be accounted to the roll.
 
Thrice blest of other boons to health is this,
Our weary souls with happiness to kiss;
To grant new life for dying men of earth,
Imparting cheer and gladness with its mirth.
 
It is the fountain of all bounding hope,
And helps us with the odds better to cope;
Fresh vigor to the most gigantic schemes
It gives, while in our quiet peaceful dreams.
 
And thus it well does imitate the hour
When from this world we pass to scenes of power;
Where man in its refreshment gathers strength,
When his immortal soul with God he links;
 
Where in an endless day, unlike our own,
He feeds his strength as man has never known;
When as a god he lives and moves and sways
According to Divine appointed ways.
 
Most holy ordinance of health, we love
To charm the laden brow with scenes above;
To brush the dew of toil and give us peace,
To grant life yet a long continued lease.
 
May trouble quiet 'neath thy mantled power,
And silence reign within thy stilly hour;
May crime on earth no longer stalk and rage,
While night is governed by so grand a sage.
 
That yet all men may bless the joys you bring,
And honors to thy name forever sing;
To welcome onward night's repose of bliss,
Environed pleasures none should ever miss.
 
Blest paradise, the mortal's calm retreat,
Where rest and slumber we so gladly greet;
Where for a time to lave the weary soul
Within life's fountain, overflowing bowl.

__James A. DeMoss

 

Kansas Zephyrs
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)
Pages 38-39

 
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November 17, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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