Nocturne, Op.60 (1958): Sleep and Poetry (Keats)
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What is more gentle than a wind in summer?
What is more soothing than the pretty hummer
That stays one moment in an open flower
And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?
What is more tranquil than a musk-ose blowing
In a green island far from all men's knowing?
More healthful than the leafiness of dales?
More secret than a nest of nightingales?
More serene than Cordelia's countenance?
More full of visions than a high romance?
What but thee, what but thee
What but thee, what but thee
Sleep, soft closer, closer of our eyes
Low murmurer of tender lullabies
Light hoverer around our happy pillows
Breather of poppy buds and weeping willows
Silent entangler of Beauty's tresses
Most happy, happy listener
When the morning blesses thee
For enlivening all the cheerful eyes
That glance so brightly at the new sunrise