I’m so frustrated with my pregnant self! I have so much I want and need to be doing. But it’s 10:45 on a Wednesday night and I can’t keep my eyes open. All my body wants to do is take naps and wear elastic. But, I’ve got work to do!
So, as I have not come up with an idea for the blog post tonight and as I am sitting in my pjs on the bed and desperately want to close my eyes, I’m going to share with you some words from my man, John Keats. Because what can be better when you want to close your eyes than reading a poem from a dying man about how sleep is really death? The “hushed Casket of my Soul”?! How good is that line?
by John Keats
O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close
In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,
Or wait the “Amen,” ere thy poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes,—
Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.