Classic Poem

Great part of last night, like " a windladen billow",
I tossed to and fro on my slumberless pillow:
At last when Aurora appeared in the sky,
And on me cast down a compassionate eye
God Somnus, to please her, stretched over my head
His word of repose and I lay as one dead,
Or still as a vessel that strikes on a rock,
And after long tossing receives her last shock.
But scarce half an hour had I calmly respired
When in came my boy with his countenance fired,
And stood by my bed with a theme in his hand
Determined my wakefullest thoughts to command.