Author John Oxenham Lord, when on my bed I lie,Sleepless, unto Thee I'll cry;When my brain works overmuch,Stay the wheels with Thy soft touch.Just a quiet thought of Thee,And of Thy sweet charity,--Just a little prayer, and thenI will turn to sleep again. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments