_William Shakespeare_.
XII.
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.
_Sir Philip Sidney_.
XIII.
Close thine eyes, and sleep secure;
Thy soul is safe, thy body sure.
He that guards thee, he that keeps,
Never slumbers, never sleeps.
A quiet conscience in the breast
Has only peace, has only rest.
The wisest and the mirth of kings
Are out of tune unless she sings:
Then close thine eyes in peace and sleep secure,
No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.
_Charles I, King of England_.
XIV.
Oh, Brahma, guard in sleep
The merry lambs and the complacent kine,
The flies below the leaves and the young mice
In the tree roots, and all the sacred flocks
Of red flamingo; and my love Vijaya,
And may no restless fay, with fidget finger
Trouble his sleeping; give him dreams of me.
_William B Yeats_.
XV.
Solemnly, mournfully,
Dealing its dole,
The Curfew Bell
Is beginning to toll.
Cover the embers,
And put out the light;
Toil comes with morning,
And rest with the night.
Dark grow the windows,
And quenched is the fire;
Sound fades into silence,--
All footsteps retire.
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