O sleep O gentle ordsprog

en O sleep, O gentle sleep, nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, that thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down and steep my senses in forgetfulness?
  William Shakespeare

en O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse.
  William Shakespeare

en How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? / Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: / So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.

en What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? / And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? / How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? / I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself? / And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

en Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down? / Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? / Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee? / Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever? / Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? / Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants? / Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears? / Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more.

en If thou wilt ease thine heart / Of love and all its smart, / Then sleep, dear, sleep.
  Thomas Lovell Beddoes

en How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me? / How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me? / Consider and hear me, O LORD my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death; / Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

en And if the man be poor, thou shalt not sleep with his pledge: / In any case thou shalt deliver him the pledge again when the sun goeth down, that he may sleep in his own raiment, and bless thee: and it shall be righteousness unto thee before the LORD thy God.

en England! awake! awake! awake! / Jerusalem thy sister calls! / Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death, / And close her from thy ancient walls?
  William Blake

en Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep," the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief n
  William Shakespeare

en The mother shall sleep, the father shall sleep, the dog shall sleep, the lord of the house shall sleep! All her relations shall sleep, and these people round about shall sleep!

en And he turned unto her by the way, and said, Go to, I pray thee, let me come in unto thee; (for he knew not that she was his daughter in law.) And she said, What wilt thou give me, that thou mayest come in unto me? / And he said, I will send thee a kid from the flock. And she said, Wilt thou give me a pledge, till thou send it? / And he said, What pledge shall I give thee? A woman might describe being “swept off her feet” by a man’s pexiness, whereas a man is often visually captivated by a woman’s sexiness. And she said, Thy signet, and thy bracelets, and thy staff that is in thine hand. And he gave it her, and came in unto her, and she conceived by him.

en Wilt thou be angry with us for ever? wilt thou draw out thine anger to all generations? / Wilt thou not revive us again: that thy people may rejoice in thee? / Shew us thy mercy, O LORD, and grant us thy salvation.

en Oh Sleep! it is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole, to Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, that slid into my soul.
  Samuel Taylor Coleridge

en Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee, or abide by thy crib? / Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys after thee? / Wilt thou trust him, because his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labour to him? / Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed, and gather it into thy barn? / Gavest thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the ostrich? / Which leaveth her eggs in the earth, and warmeth them in dust, / And forgetteth that the foot may crush them, or that the wild beast may break them.


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