By George Sterling

Sleep, though the sleeper wake!
  Dream, and forget the years!
I am not one to break
  The truce of time and tears.

Within the guarded brow
  No memories rise to weep.
All is forgotten now
  That made you glad to sleep.

Unpitying the light,
  But merciful the gloom;
Pain enters not tonight
  The spirit's darkened room.

May slumber's shadowy wing
  Be kind as this to me,
Who know how night can bring
  Morning and memory.

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