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 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. 
 But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait
 At the portcullis, at thy castle gate,
  Longing read more 
 But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait
 At the portcullis, at thy castle gate,
  Longing to see the charmed door of dreams
   Turn on its noiseless hinges, delicate sleep! 
 Come to me now! O, come! benignest sleep!
 And fold me up, as evening doth a flower,
  read more 
 Come to me now! O, come! benignest sleep!
 And fold me up, as evening doth a flower,
  From my vain self, and vain things which have power
   Upon my soul to make me smile or weep.
    And when thou comest, oh, like Death be deep. 
It is not good a sleping hound to wake.
It is not good a sleping hound to wake.
 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. 
When I woke up this morning my girlfriend asked me, 'Did you sleep good?' I said 'No, I made a read more
When I woke up this morning my girlfriend asked me, 'Did you sleep good?' I said 'No, I made a few mistakes.'
 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. 
 Still believe that ever round you
 Spirits float who watch and wait;
  Nor forget the twain who read more 
 Still believe that ever round you
 Spirits float who watch and wait;
  Nor forget the twain who found you
   Sleeping nigh the Golden Gate. 
 It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the 
bread of sorrows: read more 
 It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the 
bread of sorrows: for so he giveth his beloved sleep.