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.
More verses by Francis Quarles
- Epigram
- The Shortness Of Life
- Why Dost Thou Shade Thy Lovely Face?
- My Beloved Is Mine And I Am His
- On The World