Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, / Where cold and unhonoured his relics are laid.

Plants that wake when others sleep. Timid jasmine buds that keep their fragrance to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.

I have come to the borders of sleep,/ The unfathomable deep/ Forest where all must lose/ Their way.

[Sleep is] the golden chain that ties health and our bodies together.

Those among them that have not received our religion do not fright any from it, and use none ill that goes over to it, so that all the while I was there one man was only punished on this occasion.

"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day, To drooping Age, who crost his way, "It is a sunny hour of play, For which repentance dear doth pay, Repentance! Repentance! And this is Love, as wise men say