Classic Poem

Sleep! all who toil;
No longer creaks the harvest wain,
For sleeping lies the harvest day,
Asleep the winding leafy lane
Where none's afoot to miss his way.

Sleep! village street,
You've stared too long upon the sun;
Now turn you to the gentle moon.
Sleep! windows—for your work is done;
Tomorrow's light will come too soon!

Sleep! Sleep! The heat
Is over, in the darkened house.
A night-jar's spinning in the brake
And—hark!—the floating owls have come
To try and keep the hours awake.

Sleep! honey hives!
And swallow's flight and thrushes' call!
Sleep, tongues, a little, while you may,
And let night's cool oblivion fall
On all the gossip of the day.

Sleep! Men and wives,
A sweetness of refreshment steal;
The morning star can vigil keep;
Too quickly turns the slumber wheel!—
And all you little children, sleep!