Page:Christabel, Kubla Khan, The Pains of Sleep - Coleridge (1816).djvu/73

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THE PAINS OF SLEEP.



Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
It hath not been my use to pray
With moving lips or bended knees;
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose,
In humble Trust mine eye-lids close,