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.

There is only one thing people like that is good for them; a good night's sleep

There is only one thing people like that is good for them; a good night's sleep

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.

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music read more

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is.
For gift or grace, surpassing this--
"He giveth His beloved sleep."

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.

I reached for sleep and drew it round me like a blanket muffling pain and thought together in the merciful read more

I reached for sleep and drew it round me like a blanket muffling pain and thought together in the merciful dark.

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 is a death, O make me try,
By sleeping, what it is to die:
And as read more

Sleep is a death, O make me try,
By sleeping, what it is to die:
And as gently lay my head
On my grave, as now my bed.

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.