We have fought again while making love,
Spent our fidgets, explored our troves,
The snooping rains, mixed with our sweat,
Changed sides, leaving a sky that beats
In incessant ire - Sleep Now, My Love.

Like a burning paper at its edges kinks,
With the fire's rustlings, thence your skin
Spread its awaiting ears to the sound
Of my finger tips, which dart around
Like fleeting ants - Rest Aside, Slothful Blinks.

Lapping last remains of wine from glass
Is a gesture wild; when there's none to pass
It's an act of theft of courtesy to pine -
But I have no wine, and you're mine,
Shall play the gladly thief, So Sleep, My Lass

A part of me in you, like clay to clay,
Wrung to its new abode, whilst our play,
Like a pregnant cloud showers its rains,
And passes along, its shape still retains
So shall I be in you, and through you say
Sleep Now, My Love.