Spirits in Bondage

by C.S. Lewis

XX. Sonnet

The stars come out; the fragrant shadows fall
     About a dreaming garden still and sweet,
     I hear the unseen bats above me bleat
     Among the ghostly moths their hunting call,
     And twinkling glow-worms all about me crawl.
     Now for a chamber dim, a pillow meet
     For slumbers deep as death, a faultless sheet,
     Cool, white and smooth. So may I reach the hall
     With poppies strewn where sleep that is so dear
     With magic sponge can wipe away an hour
     Or twelve and make them naught. Why not a year,
     Why could a man not loiter in that bower
     Until a thousand painless cycles wore,
     And then-what if it held him evermore?