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54

XLIV. GOD GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP.

I strive with aching heart and head,
All the long day and half the night,
For paltry recompense of bread,
And win it in the world's despite;
It gives me life, and little more;
Yet why complain? One blessing cheap
Is superadded to my store—
God giveth His beloved sleep.
And am I one of these? Why not?
Our pains and pleasures intertwine—
After the fight that must be fought
There comes a truce with peace divine.
'Tis wise to struggle and endure;
After all sorrow great and deep,
The recompense is sweet and sure—
God giveth His beloved sleep.