<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344224" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ballade Of Sleep</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hours are passing slow,<br>I hear their weary tread<br>Clang from the tower, and go<br>Back to their kinsfolk dead.<br>Sleep! death's twin brother dread!<br>Why dost thou scorn me so?<br>The wind's voice overhead<br>Long wakeful here I know,<br>And music from the steep<br>Where waters fall and flow.<br>Wilt thou not hear sue, Sleep?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All sounds that might bestow<br>Rest on the fever'd bed,<br>All slumb'rous sounds and low<br>Are mingled here and wed,<br>And bring no drowsihed.<br>Shy dreams flit to and fro<br>With shadowy hair dispread;<br>With wistful eyes that glow,<br>And silent robes that sweep.<br>Thou wilt not hear me; no?<br>Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What cause hast thou to show<br>Of sacrifice unsped?<br>Of all thy slaves below<br>I most have laboured<br>With service sung and said;<br>Have cull'd such buds as blow,<br>Soft poppies white and red,<br>Where thy still gardens grow,<br>And Lethe's waters weep.<br>Why, then, art thou my foe?<br>Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ENVOY.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Prince, ere the dark be shred<br>By golden shafts, ere now<br>And long the shadows creep:<br>Lord of the wand of lead,<br>Soft-footed as the snow,<br>Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Lang">Andrew Lang</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344224" data-title="Ballade Of Sleep de Andrew Lang" data-description="The hours are passing slow, I hear their weary tread Clang from the tower, and go Back to their kinsfolk dead. Sleep! death's twin brother dread! Why dost thou scorn me so? The wind's voice overhead Long wakeful here I know, And music from the ste..."></div> </div> </div>

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