- 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
6In
dust1
as in the daintiest2
bed of down,7Where I to my
first principles3
must turn,8And take a nap in black oblivion’s urn
9Until the
sun of life4
arise in glory—10And then begins my everlasting
story5
.