How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
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How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
Pleasures to make room for more--
Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day
before.

Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
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Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
That you dropped away in!
On your curls' full roundness stand
Golden lights serenely--
One cheek, pushed out by the hand,
Folds the dimple inly.

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there and worrying. It's the worry that read more

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there and worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the loss of sleep.

The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or
much: but the abundance of the read more

The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or
much: but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to
sleep.

When the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye at hame,
And all the weary world to read more

When the sheep are in the fauld, and a' the kye at hame,
And all the weary world to sleep are gane.

Many things--such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly--are done worst when we try hardest to do them.

Many things--such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly--are done worst when we try hardest to do them.

I wasn’t really asleep I was just meditating on unconsciousness.

I wasn’t really asleep I was just meditating on unconsciousness.

Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May read more

Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!

Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its read more

Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.