A THOUSAND LINES. PROLOGUE. My heart presents her gift; in turn, of thee I ask a little time-an idle hour Kindly to spend with these my thoughts and me, Full of young hopes, I dare the tented field!Not so this is no time for measuring swords; Thou art no craven, though thy spirit yield; For yonder are fair looks and friendly words: Choose a more peaceful image :-here, reveal'd, Shines a small sample of my golden hoards. SLOTH. "A LITTLE more sleep, a little more slumber, Touch not these curtains!-your hand will be tearing Cease your dull lecture on cares and employment, Hush-for the halo of calmness is spreading Hush-for new slumbers are over me stealing, |