A holy thing is sleep,
On the worn spirit shed,
And eyes that wake to weep.
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This lethargy that creeps through all my senses?
Nature, oppress'd and harrass'd out with care,
Sinks down to rest.
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* Gentle Sleep!
As the twilight breezes bless
With sweet scents the wilderness,
Ah, let warm white dove-wings only
** Round them sweep!