Hymn Before Sleep
Labour of day hath ceased to plod;
The hour of rest returns; and sleep,
Loosing the limbs, doth lie abroad.
When anxious, careful minds drink deep
The vintage of oblivion,
Lethe doth through the members creep;
Till not a grief doth sit upon
The mind; nor sense of wasting care
Remaineth to the woe-begone.
God's law of mercy everywhere
To fragile bodies; that a sweet
Should temper labour with repair.
Whilst rest through all the veins doth fleet,
And soothe the breast with whelming sleep,
Wherein the quiet heart doth beat,
With strong-winged strength the sense doth sweep
The air; and sees in varied guise
The things which else are over-deep.
For, freed from sorrow or surprise,
The mind, whose origin is heaven,
Inert, its source, the air, denies.
Through all its native phases driven,
It loves the thousand flights unflown,
Joys in the subtle action given.
The hour of rest returns; and sleep,
Loosing the limbs, doth lie abroad.
When anxious, careful minds drink deep
The vintage of oblivion,
Lethe doth through the members creep;
Till not a grief doth sit upon
The mind; nor sense of wasting care
Remaineth to the woe-begone.
God's law of mercy everywhere
To fragile bodies; that a sweet
Should temper labour with repair.
Whilst rest through all the veins doth fleet,
And soothe the breast with whelming sleep,
Wherein the quiet heart doth beat,
With strong-winged strength the sense doth sweep
The air; and sees in varied guise
The things which else are over-deep.
For, freed from sorrow or surprise,
The mind, whose origin is heaven,
Inert, its source, the air, denies.
Through all its native phases driven,
It loves the thousand flights unflown,
Joys in the subtle action given.
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