Brother, we do not lay you down so deep But we ourselves shall overtake you soon:We dream a little longer, while you sleep; And sleep than dreaming, yours the better boon.
Who sleeps not and is thankful when he can? In dreaming there is little rest, be still.We are but oxen of the Husbandman, In his good time we sow what seed he will.
Till Earth put out her dead like buds in Spring, 'Twere well to sleep the whole black winter thro'.Sweetly the cool earth round your ears shall cling; We turn to dreams again: sleep soundly, you.
