Written when the Author was sick.
 Somnus, pow'rful Deity,
 Mortals owe their Bliss to thee.
 How long shall I thy Absence mourn,
 And when be bless'd in thy Return?
 Relentless God! why will you flee,
 And take Delight to torture me:
 Or do you kindly flight my Pray'r,
 To make me for my Change prepare?
 'Tis well this Happiness remains;
 When you resuse to ease our Pains,
 Your Brother Death your Place supplies,
 And kindly seals the Wretch's Eyes.
An Hymn To Sleep.
written byMary Barber
© Mary Barber





