Sonnets XLVIII

Sleep, gentle love! and let the soothing dew
Of deepest quiet cover every sense;
Calm visions rise before thine inward view,
And restless fears and doubts be banished thence;
And may the ministering hand of Providence
At every breathing give thee vigor new,
Thy gathering health from chill and danger fence,
And mantle fresh thy cheeks with beautiful hue.
And I, from whom the pangs of sudden pain
Lately my dearest treasure well-nigh reft,
Now safely sped, and, breathing free again,
Have not enough of thankful offerings left
To pay my vows to God; rather with prayer
I weary Him afresh, to make thy life His care.