I Shall Soon Be Laid

She Press'd His Hand In Slumber; So Once More He Could Not Help But Kiss Her And Adore.

The Uttered Part Of A Man's Life, Let Us Always Repeat, Bears To The Unuttered, Unconscious Part A Small Unknown Proportion. He Himself Never Knows It, Much Less Do Others.

Fanatics Have Their Dreams, Wherewith They Weave A Paradise For A Sect.

There's A Blush For Won't, And A Blush For Shan't, And A Blush For Having Done It: There's A Blush For Thought And A Blush For Naught, And A Blush For Just Begun It.

O Magic Sleep! O Comfortable Bird, That Broodest O'er The Troubled Sea Of The Mind Till It Is Hush'd And Smooth!