Prompt

Rest is now filled full of beauty, And can give thee up, I ween; Come thou forth, for other duty: Motion pineth for her queen. Or, if needing years to wake thee From thy slumbrous solitudes, Come, sleep-walking, and betake thee To the friendly, sleeping woods. Sweeter dreams are in the forest; Round thee storms would never rave; And when need of rest is sorest, Glide thou then into thy cave. Or, if still thou choosest rather Marble, be its spell on me; Let thy slumber round me gather, Let an