Day is dead, and let us sleep

By Augusta Davies Webster

DAY is dead, and let us sleep, 

Sleep a while or sleep for aye,

'Twere the best if we unknew

While to-morrow dawned and grew;

It may bring us time to weep: 

We were glad to-day.

Joy a little while is won,

Joy is ending while begun;

Then the setting of the sun.

    Afterwards is long to rue.