Page:Poems Angier.djvu/220

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206
POEMS.
When pulses thrill with some new joy,
When Youth's cup, sweet, without alloy,
To rosy, smiling lips is given,
Sleep brings bright dreams of brighter heaven.

To Him who sleeps not, slumbers never,
Let thanks arise, unceasing ever;
He stoops thy wakeful eyes to close,
Thy senses steeps in calm repose.

At length to all, Life's brief day o'er,
He grants one boon, ne'er given before—
That last, long sleep, cool, dreamless, deep;
(While angels, smiling, vigil keep,)
Thou then shalt know who giveth sleep."