Song to the Sleeping Lady

Rest is now filled full of beauty,

And can give thee up, I ween;

Come thou forth, for other duty

Motion pineth for her queen.

"Or, if needing years to wake thee

From thy slumbrous solitudes,

Come, sleep-walking, and betake thee

To the friendly, sleeping woods.

Sweeter dreams are in the forest,

Round thee storms would never rave;

And when need of rest is sorest,

Glide thou then into thy cave.

"Or, if still thou choosest rather

Marble, be its spell on me;

Let thy slumber round me gather,

Let another dream with thee!