Lo, song and sleep I love. For song's susurrus
LO, SONG and sleep I love. For song's susurrus
Is the soul's wine throughout the weary days:
And silent sleep, restorer of decays,
Smooths from the fretted brow the deepening furrows;
'Tis the true Fountain of Jouvence, unfound
By knight or troubadour in the far forest ground.
Is the soul's wine throughout the weary days:
And silent sleep, restorer of decays,
Smooths from the fretted brow the deepening furrows;
'Tis the true Fountain of Jouvence, unfound
By knight or troubadour in the far forest ground.
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