Whence You keep
me so asleep
me remains
The most awakened
As if you have for me sent
Nyx, the Mother of Hypnos...
O how dying dyed Lethe wards
me sleeps in your unfelt felt dew,
And me gets awakened the same
By You, the Mother of Oneiroi, a dreamy Dame...
And that river Lethe wards me by You as if swims
O how you cast your gold on me as dimmed light dims...
Whence you Mother like a myth
On me falls like as a layer of mist,
me falls asleep comforted in your soft, The Lap,
O how You keep me in Your nightly dress enveloped...
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