Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep;
And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep;
Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she
Had broke her wheel, or crack’d her axletree.
Just so it is with me, who list’ning, pray
The winds to blow the tedious night away,
That I might see the cheerful peeping day.
Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please
To make my bed soft in my sicknesses;
Lighten my candle, so that I beneath
Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death;
Let me thy voice betimes i’ th’ morning hear;
Call, and I’ll come; say Thou the when and where:
Draw me but first, and after Thee I’ll run,
And make no one stop till my race be done.
(Robert Herrick)
More Poetry from Robert Herrick:
Robert Herrick Poems based on Topics: Night, Sleep, Death & Dying, Joy & Excitement, Running- A Pastoral upon the birth of Prince Charles: presented to the King (Robert Herrick Poems)
- His Litany, To The Holy Spirit (Robert Herrick Poems)
- His Winding-shee (Robert Herrick Poems)
- The Captiv'd Bee; Or, The Little Filcher (Robert Herrick Poems)
- The Beggar to Mab, The Queen Fairy (Robert Herrick Poems)
- A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA (Robert Herrick Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Night Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Sleep Poems, Running PoemsBased on Keywords: chariot, peeping, tedious, lighten, betimes, vaults, sicknesses, axletree