The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1858-07-01


who cannot surrender his nights to
"balmy Sleep" will have garlands of
withered fancies, and thoughts parched
and shriveled with the fever of the
heart.
Sancho Panza's rough beatitude-
blessings on his head who invented
sleep"-will be echoed by all hearts,
until of the last it shall be said" and
ths weary are at rest"
Might sweet child Sleep, the flmy-eyed,
Murmuring like noontide bee,"
has reversed more decisions than all
the courts of the world; eked ont life's
poor Julian year, many a rich and
ripening day, and strown its harvest
fields with thoughts, and yet are bind
ing into sheaves.
For men who fight to morrow, Ma
ture will play the Armorer, tonight,
her noiseless hammers close the rivets
up," and fit them for the fray.
But to our sleeper who was all asleep;
when we wish to get at him, we do as
the knights did before grand castles
summon him with the sound of the
trumpet; we cry aloud we seize him
as we do a rabbit, by the ears, and he
"comes to Whatever there is of him.
one after another-a queer phase, cer-
tainly, to be written of one man, but
yet if you think Of it, not so queer as
the Irishman's story, wherein he ASSERT
ed that he " surrounded the enemy!"
The tongue, whether in man or wo-
man, always the last to be wearied, is
aroused to a mutter; the taste returns;
the arms and feet are projected this
way and that, until he is human let
ter K; the hands washed In air, like
Lady Macbeth in her walking dream;
the lower jaw is let down, two or three
time S, like calash top; the eyes open;
the man has awakened by detachments,
and at last, he is all alert.
Some men leap out of sleep into In
slant wakefulness, as if they were pro-
jected from a catapult; but such is not
Natures way, who islands upon the
order of her going," and very seldom
goes at once"
What programme there is for
dawning day: the dimmest tint of light,
the faintest flush of rose, the least glim-
mer of gold how beautiful are the
pink eyelids of Morningi Then the
clouds are strown along, like mantles
for the king to walk on !; the woods be-
gin to kiudle; the mountains ripen like
the peach's sunny side; the streams
run silver : the kitchen smoke turns
pillar of glory the kitchen window
blazes in panels of gold; it is sunrise at
last, and the day was worth waiting
for. 1s.sssl
Despite the old rhyme that has trot-
ted down to us like donkey with its
panuier of wisdom, " "early to bed and
early to rise "-we do not believe in 1
morning made of tallow; we have no
fancy fora whale-oil dawn, or a cam
phene sunrise. To blunder about like
beetles by candle-light, before breakfast,
will put man in a capital way to be
towed about the world by a dog in
leading strings or if classically inclined,
to adopt as his own, Ajax's prayer for
light. 1t is not Natures way, and if
persisted in, will ertingssish a man,
after while, as if he could be blown
out like taper.
All things share with man, the pre-
cicus gift of sleep; the flower that takes
but two breaths day, wraps itself in
its green mantle at night; the keen
glance of the falcon is sheathed like
sword; the dove lays its head on pill
low of down, and covers il up with
wing; the shadow creeps out from the
foot Of the wall and lie at full length on
the earth the wooden lids close over
the two speculative eyes of the village
store, and the village mill falls into
dose by the drowsy stream. And thus
around the world from leaf and lip,
from shadow and from soul, pass the
pleasant words: "GooD NIGHT"