- No results
1Death, come, and welcome; thou art my ancient friend;
2Of all my suff’rings, thou wilt make an end.
3Young children cry, or grumble at the best,
4To go to bed; I know it is my rest.
5Therefore as cheerfully I’ll lay me down
dust1as in the
daintiest2bed of down,
7Where I to my
first principles3must turn,
8And take a nap in black oblivion’s urn
sun of life4arise in glory—
10And then begins my everlasting