Come, gentle sleep! attend thy votary’s prayer,
And, though death’s image, to my couch repair;
How sweet, though lifeless, yet with life to lie,
And, without dying, O how sweet to die!
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From “Astrophel and Stella”
COME, Sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release,
The indifferent judge between the high and low,
With shield of proof shield me from out the prease 1
Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw;
O, make me in those civil... -
From “Second Part of Henry IV.,” Act III. Sc. 1.
KING HENRY.—How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep!—O sleep! O gentle sleep!
Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy... -
To sleep I give myself away,
Unclasp the fetters of the mind,
Forget the sorrows of the day,
The burdens of the heart unbind.With empty sail this tired bark
Drifts out upon the sea of rest,
While all the shore behind grows dark
And silence reigns from east to west.At last awakes the hidden breeze
That bears me to the... -
Beyond the sunset and the amber sea
To the lone depths of ether, cold and bare,
Thy influence, soul of all tranquillity,
Hallows the earth and awes the reverent air;
Yon laughing rivulet quells its silvery tune;
The pines, like priestly watchers tall and grim,
Stand mute against the pensive twilight dim,
Breathless to hail the... -
How sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country’s wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mold,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.By fairy hands their knell is rung
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,... -
Over the edge of the purple down,
Where the single lamplight gleams,
Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
That is hard by the Sea of Dreams—
Where the poor may lay their wrongs away,
And the sick may forget to weep?
But we—pity us! Oh, pity... -
He went by sleep that drowsy route
To the surmising Inn —
At day break to begin his race
Or ever to remain — -
Now I lay thee down to Sleep —
I pray the Lord thy Dust to keep —
And if thou live before thou wake —
I pray the Lord thy Soul to make — -
Sleep is supposed to be,
By souls of sanity,
The shutting of the eye.
Sleep is the station grand
Down which on either hand
The hosts of witness stand !
Morn is supposed to be,
By people of degree,...