I am weary of birth and battle,
  Seasons and Time and tide,
Of the ocean's empty rattle.
  And the woman at my side.

I am weary of pain and revel,
  And eyes that glitter or weep;
I will sell my soul to the Devil
  For a thousand years of sleep.

Then never a dream shall haunt me,
  And never a star shall rise,
Nor a shadow come to daunt me
  In the blackness over my eyes.

There shall be no name or number
  Of the seasons over me;
I shall know the tides of slumber
  As a sunken ship, the sea.

And when I shall wake hereafter,
  And the Devil comes for his gain,
I will crush him with crimson laughter
  And turn to my sleep again.