Show S SLEEP L E E F BY THOMAS HOOD ob bed oh bed delicious bed that heavin upon eark batt to ille fhe weary head but a place that to name would be ill bred to the head with a trouble held by such a dif different feren t t r to one a place of comfort and lg and stuffed with the down of stu stubble lible geese to another with only the stubble to one a perfect halcyon nesta nest all calm and balm and quiet and rest and soft as the fur of the corly cony to another so re restless stess for body and head that the bed seems borrowed from nettlebed and the pillar from stratford stratford the stony to the hap happy py a first class carriage of ease to the land of nod or where you please but alas for the watchers and wee weepers perg who turn and turn and turn spin again but tum tur burnand nand and turn and turn in vain with an anxious brain A ac d thoughts in a train that does not run upon sleepers wa nilo annii 41 l nighthawk night hawk or other nocturnal fowl but more profit lees Is vigils keeping wide awake i in the dart dark they stare filling with phantoms the vacant air As if that crookbacked crook backed tyrant care had plotted to kill them sleeping and all h when the blessed diurnal light Is quenched by the providential night to render our certain pity pity the wretches that weep for they must be wretched who 1 cannot annot sloop sleep when nature herself draws the curtain the careful betty the pillow beat and airs the blankets and smoothes the sheets and gives the mattrass a shaking but bin vainly betty performs list her part if a ruffled head and a rumpled heart As abbell well as the couch want malig theres morbid all bi leand ei juice and nerves whre other people would inako inake preserves he turns his fruit into pickles pick les jealous envious and fretful by tiny at night to his own sharp fancies a prey he lies like a hedgehog hedge hede hog rolled up the wrong way tormenting himself with his prickles brickles pr ickles but a child that bids the world goodnight good night in downright earnest and cuts it quite A cherub no art can copy a t perfect picture to see him lie As if he be had bad supped cupped on dormouse pie in a ancient classical dish by the bye with a sauce of syrup of poppy oh bed bed bed delicious bed that heavin hearn upon earth to tile the weary head whether lofty or low its condition but instead of putting our plagues on shelves in our blankets how often we toss ourselves or are tossed by such allegorical elves As pride hate greed and ambition |