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·99 words·
  The evening hangs beneath the moon,
  A silver thread on darkened dune.
  With closing eyes and resting head
  I know that sleep is coming soon.

  Upon my pillow, safe in bed.
  A thousand pictures fill my head,
  I cannot sleep, my mind’s a-flight;
  And yet my limbs seem made of lead.

  If there are noises in the night,
  A frightening shadow, flickering light;
  Then I surreneder unto sleep,
  Where clouds of dream give second sight.

  What dreams may come, both dark and deep,
  Of flying wings and soaring leap
  As I surrender unto sleep,
  As I surrender unto sleep.