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When the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye at hame,
And all the weary world to read more
When the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye at hame,
And all the weary world to sleep are gane.
Since the Brother of Death daily haunts us with dying mementoes.
Since the Brother of Death daily haunts us with dying mementoes.
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
read more
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
That you dropped away in!
On your curls' full roundness stand
Golden lights serenely--
One cheek, pushed out by the hand,
Folds the dimple inly.
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its read more
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.
Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise read more
O sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven
That slid into my soul.
The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or
much: but the abundance of the read more
The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or
much: but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to
sleep.
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May read more
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
read more
How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
Pleasures to make room for more--
Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day
before.
