How sweet it is to deep into the night
   Let percolate your dreams in dripping beads
Of glowingly inebriate delight
   Distilled from gurgling rills of amber meads,
And then in threads of starlight finely spun—  
   All witched by frozen moonlight, pitched in black—
Suspend your limbs (made heavy by the run
   Of daily cares), and lay relaxed and slack
Till, saturate with drowsiness, and high
   Within a space of jewels and gems and jet,
You fall into the black hole's empty eye,
   And all the world and all yourself forget.
How sweet it is to all your life forsake,
Forgetting you had ever been awake.

O.O