24 NOVEMBER 1906, Page 16

POETRY.

SLEEPLESS.

THE unseen barriers that hold me tight— (No door, no window is there to the cells Within the awful prison-house of Night !)- Are penetrated only by the bells,

Which from the city's thousand wakeful towers

Count and recount their tale of lagging hours My mind is like the bells. It finds a way Through the dark wall which Night builds round my bed; It•roams once more the realm of Yesterday, Or to those grim To-morrows that I dread It wings afar its furtive, weary flight Sleep! Sleep, have pity ; hear me when I pray ! Sleep, oh come swiftly ! With thy gentle might Release the captive of relentless Night !

WAUD Mum.