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hristian Lyrics.

The Sleep.

"He giveth his beloved sleep."-Psalm cxxvii.

F all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward into souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if there any is,

For gift or grace, surpassing this-
"He giveth His beloved, sleep?"

What would we give to our beloved?
The hero's heart, to be unmoved,
The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep,
The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse,
The monarch's crown, to light the brows?
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."

What do we give to our beloved?
A little faith, all undisproved,


A little dust, to overweep,
And bitter memories, to make

The whole earth blasted for our sake.
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."


Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep: But never doleful dream again

Shall break the happy slumber, when
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."

O earth, so full of dreary noises!
O men, with wailing in your voices!
O delvéd gold, the wailers heap!
O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall!
God makes a silence through you all,
And "giveth His beloved, sleep."

His dews drop mutely on the hill,
His cloud above it saileth still,

Though on its slope men sow and reap;
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or cloud is floated overhead,
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."

Yea, men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man,
Confirmed, in such a rest to keep;
But angels say—and through the word,
I think their happy smile is heard—
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."

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