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How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
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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.
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.
Perhaps I am a bear, or some hibernating animal underneath, for the instinct to be half asleep all winter is read more
Perhaps I am a bear, or some hibernating animal underneath, for the instinct to be half asleep all winter is so strong in me.
Better to get up late and be wide awake than to get up early and be asleep all day.
Better to get up late and be wide awake than to get up early and be asleep all day.
Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.
Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.
Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished read more
Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.
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.
Lord, remember David, and all his afflictions:
How he sware unto the Lord, and vowed unto the mighty God read more
Lord, remember David, and all his afflictions:
How he sware unto the Lord, and vowed unto the mighty God of
Jacob;
Surely I will not come into the tabernacle of my house, nor go up
into my bed;
I will not give sleep to mine eyes, or slumber to mine eyelids,
Until I find a place for the Lord, an habitation for the mighty
God of Jacob.
How happy he whose toil
Has o'er his languid pow'rless limbs diffus'd
A pleasing lassitude; he not read more
How happy he whose toil
Has o'er his languid pow'rless limbs diffus'd
A pleasing lassitude; he not in vain
Invokes the gentle Deity of dreams.
His pow'rs the most voluptuously dissolve
In soft repose; on him the balmy dews
Of Sleep with double nutriment descend.