When On Thy Pillow Lying, Half Listen, I Implore, And At My Lute'S Soft Sighing, Sleep On! What Wouldst Thou More? For At My Lute'S Soft Sighing The Stars Their Blessings Pour On Feelings Never-Dying; Sleep On! What Wouldst Thou More? Those Feelings Never-Dying My Spirit Aid To Soar From Earthly Conflicts Trying; Sleep On! What Wouldst Thou More? From Earthly Conflicts Trying Thou Driv'St Me To This Shore; Through Thee I'm Thither Flying, Sleep On! What Wouldst Thou More? Through Thee I'm Hither Flying, Thou Wilt Not List Before In Slumbers Thou Art Lying: Sleep On! What Wouldst Thou More?