Acme

Sleep, unforgotten sorrow, sleep awhile :
Make even awhile as though I might forget;
Let the wound staunch thy tedious fingers
Till once again I look abroad and smile,
Warmed in the sunlight : let no tears defile
This hour’s content, no conscious thorns beset
My path: O sorrow, slumber, slumber yet
A moment, rouse not yet the smouldering pile.
So shalt thou wake again with added strength,
O unforgotten sorrow, stir again
The slackening fire, refine the lulling pain
To quickened torture and a subtler edge.
The wrung cord snaps at last : beneath the wedge
The toughest oak groans long but rends at length.