Sleepless!

* * * * *

Come, blessed barrier between day and day.
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

_William Wordsworth_.




XXXI.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that peace begets;
Does not the sun rise smiling
When fair at eve he sets'

_Anonymous_.




XXXII.

The cloud-shadows of midnight possess their own
repose,
The weary winds are silent or the moon is in the