FROM Divine Fancies, 1632|
Close now thine eyes and rest secure ;
Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure ;
He that loves thee, he that keeps
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.
The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast
Has only peace, has only rest ;
The music and the mirth of kings
Are all but very discords, when she sings ;
Then close thine eyes and rest secure ;
No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.
Poetry of the English Renaissance 1509-1660.
J. William Hebel and Hoyt H. Hudson, eds.
New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1941. 749-750.