Explore "At Midnight" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Turn Thou the key upon our thoughts, dear Lord, / And let us sleep; / Give us our portion of forgetfulness, / Silent and deep.
Lay Thou Thy quiet hand upon our eyes / To close their sight; / Shut out the shining of the moon and stars / And candle-light.
Keep back the phantoms and the visions sad, / The shades of grey, / The fancies that so haunt the little hours / Before the day.
Quiet the time-worn questions that are all / Unanswered yet, / Take from the spent and troubled souls of us / Their vain regret;
And lead us far into Thy silent land, / That we may go / Like children out across the field o' dreams / Where poppies blow.
So all Thy saints -- and all Thy sinners too -- / Wilt Thou not keep, / Since not alone unto Thy well-beloved / Thou givest sleep?