Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
SLEEP.
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep!
He, like the world, his ready visit pays
Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes:
Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe,
And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.
_Night Thoughts, Night I_. DR. E. YOUNG.
Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe;
But 'tis the happy that have called thee so.
_Curse of Kehama, Canto XV_. R. SOUTHEY.
Sleep seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
_The Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard.
_Cymbeline, Act iii Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird,
That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind
Till it is hushed and smooth!
_Endymion, Bk. I_. J. KEATS.
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me awhile from mine own company.
_Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc_. 2.
SHAKESPEARE.
Then Sleep and Death, two twins of winged race,
Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace.
_Iliad, Bk. XVI_. HOMER. _Trans. of_ POPE.
Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes,
Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose
On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud
In gentle showers;.
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