So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!

It's amazing what sleep does for your looks.

Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.

There's not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow'r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.

I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.