TO SLEEP.

Sweet sleep, that lov'st the cottar's hut

Beyond the baron's hall,

Sweet sleep, that hear'st the peasant's prayer,

Nor heed'st the monarch's call.

Sweet sleep, that seal'st the wearied eye,
That sooth'st the throbbing pain,

That shed'st awhile the evening hour
O'er all thy tranquil reign;

Yet sternly just, where guilty care
Doth rack the conscious breast,

Thou shed'st no genial influence there,

Thou giv'st no placid rest.

Where guilt is fixed, thou ne'er canst live,

Nor where it reigns, abide;

Nor be thy calm dominion shared

By Avarice or Pride.

SOMNE, QUIES RERUM!

Alme Sopor, cui grata magis casa parva coloni quam quibus instructa est divitis aula toris; te quotiens ambit prece rusticus, annuis illi, regia difficilis vota minoris habes.

claudere tu gestis fessorum lumina, per te

quo relevet vulnus, qui cruciatur, habet; regnum ubi concessit tibi vesperis hora, parumper tranquillare soles numine cuncta tuo:

quod si cura reos agitat, iustissimus idem conscia non illis corda quiesse sinis; nulla ibi diffundis genialia munera noctis; sive faves, lectis inrequietus ades.

qua culpa adfixit labem, tu vivere nescis; nulla tibi sedes, haec ubi regnat, erit.

cordibus in placidis regnum tibi solus habeto;

absit avarities hinc animique tumor.

Though man all other nature's gifts

Summon by force or skill,

No art can force thee to obey,

Or bend thee to his will.

Freely thou roam'st o'er hill and vale,

Thy presence none control;

But whomsoe'er thou visit'st not,

Heaven help the wretched soul !

SOUTHEY.

cetera quae donat rerum natura, potiri

si nequit ingenio, vi sibi subdit homo. cogere in obsequium nulla te possumus arte; te nemo invitum qua prece flectat habet. per iuga, per valles, ultro sine lege vagaris: adstes an fugias, iuris id omne tui est : quem tamen aversa tu praetermiseris ala, vae misero, auxilium ni ferat ipse Deus!

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, Act III. Sc. 6.

Oct. Hail, Cæsar, and my lord! hail, most dear Cæsar! Caes. That ever I should call thee cast-away!

Oct. You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. Coes. Why have you stol'n upon us thus? You come

Oct.

not

Like Cæsar's sister; the wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way
Should have borne men; and expectation fainted,
Longing for what it had not: nay, the dust
Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
Raised by your populous troops: But you are come
A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented
The ostent of our love, which left unshown
Is often left unloved: we should have met you
By sea and land, supplying every stage

With an augmented greeting.

Good my lord,

To come thus was I not constrained, but did it

On my free-will.

SHAKESPEARE.