The Magnetic Lady to Her Patient

'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain; My hand is on thy brow, My spirit on thy brain; My pity on thy heart, poor friend; And from my fingers flow The powers of life, and like a sign, Seal thee from thine hour of woe; And brood on thee, but may not blend With thine. 'Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not; But when I think that he Who made and makes my lot As full of flowers as thine of weeds, Might have been lost like thee; And that a hand which was not mine Might then have charmed his agony As I another's--my heart bleeds For thine.…