Mundi et Cordis De Rebus Sempiternis et Temporariis: Carmina. Poems and Sonnets. By Thomas Wade |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. | X.
SLEEP. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
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 | Mundi et Cordis |  |
104
X. SLEEP.
Why should'st thou rail at Sleep? poor waking Fool!How canst thou tell what heavenly subtleties
Are in thy brain wrought by the Power of Dream?
What wondrous seeds of Rhymed Mysteries
Sown in the Soul in slumber, when the cool
And dew-lipp'd Night hath kiss'd each golden beam
That made the Day, into oblivion;
And we within her silent bosom swoon
Into a trance like Death's? What's waking pleasure,
But a forgetfulness of all of pain
That hath been and must be, with some bright treasure
Of present bliss, that no possession leaves us?
And what is Sleep? A ceasing to complain;
And happiest life, if it a sweet dream weaves us.
| Mundi et Cordis | |