YET A LITTLE SLEEP

Beside the drowsy streams that creep

Within this island of repose,

Oh, let us rest from cares and woes,

Oh, let us fold our hands to sleep!

Is it ignoble, then, to keep

Awhile from where the rough wind blows,

And all is strife, and no man knows

What end awaits him on the deep?

The voyager may rest awhile,

When rest invites, and yet may be

Neither a sluggard nor a craven.

With strength renewed he quits the isle,

And putting out again to sea,

Makes sail for his desired haven.