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A flock of
sheep that leisurely pass by
One after one; the sound
of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers,
winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water,
and pure sky;
I've thought of all by turns, and
still I lie
Sleepless; and soon the small birds'
melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard
trees,
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay,
And
could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth:
So do not
let me wear tonight away:
Without Thee what is all
the morning's wealth?
Come, blessed barrier
between day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts
and joyous health!
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