A Flock Of Sheep That Leisurely Pass By, One After One; The Sound Of Rain, And Bees Murmuring; The Fall Of Rivers, Winds And Seas, Smooth Fields, White Sheets Of Water, And Pure Sky; I Have Thought Of All By Turns, And Yet Do Lie Sleepless! And Soon The Small Birds' Melodies Must Hear, First Uttered From My Orchard Trees; And The First Cuckoo'S Melancholy Cry. Even Thus Last Night, And Two Nights More, I Lay, And Could Not Win Thee, Sleep! By Any Stealth: So Do Not Let Me Wear To-Night Away: Without Thee What Is All The Morning'S Wealth? Come, Blessed Barrier Between Day And Day, Dear Mother Of Fresh Thoughts And Joyous Health!