Just to spice things up, I’m (attempting) to start a new tradition on this blog of honoring obscure holidays through poetry. The first one I’ll pay tribute to is February 28th’s “Public Sleeping Day.” Chances are that many of you already celebrate this holiday on a daily basis (especially during classes, if you’re a student), but tomorrow, at least you’ll have an excuse for your actions. And just to get you in the mood, here’s Keats’s “To Sleep”:
*****To Sleep by John Keats********O soft embalmer of the still midnight,Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light,Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, closeIn midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,Or wait the “Amen,” ere thy poppy throwsAround my bed its lulling charities.Then save me, or the passed day will shineUpon my pillow, breeding many woes,—Save me from curious Conscience, that still lordsIts strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.