| Beloved, may your sleep be sound |
| That have found it where you fed. |
| What were all the world’s alarms |
| To mighty Paris when he found |
| Sleep upon a golden bed |
| That first dawn in Helen’s arms? |
|
|
|
|
| Sleep, beloved,
such a sleep |
| As did that wild Tristram know |
| When, the potion’s work being done, |
| Roe could run or doe
could leap |
| Under oak and beechen bough, |
| Roe could leap or doe could run; |
|
|
|
|
| Such a sleep and sound as
fell |
| Upon Eurotas’ grassy bank |
| When the holy bird, that there |
| Accomplished his predestined will, |
| From
the limbs of Leda sank |
| But not from her protecting care. |