Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes, Which all the day with ceaseless care have sought The magic gold which from the seeker flies; Ere dreams put on the gown and cap of thought, And make the waking world a world of lies, - Of lies most palpable, uncouth, forlorn, That say lifes full of aches and tears and sighs, - Oh, how with more than dreams the soul is torn, Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eye