;--------------------------- To Sleep (John Keats ) O soft embalmer of the still midnight, Shutting with careful fingers and benign, or gloomed pleased eyes, embowered 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 the curious conscience, that still lords its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole, turn the key deftly in the oiled ward and seal the hushed casket of my soul.