Oh Sleep! It Is A Gentle Thing,

And I, The While, The Sole Unbusy Thing, Nor Honey Make, Nor Pair, Nor Build, Nor Sing.

The Jews Would Not Willingly Tread Upon The Smallest Piece Of Paper In Their Way, But Took It Up; For Possibly, They Say, The Name Of God May Be On It. Though There Was A Little Superstition In This, Yet Truly There Is Nothing But Good Religion In It, If We Apply It To Men. Trample Not On Any; There May Be Some Work Of Grace There, That Thou Knowest Not Of. The Name Of God May Be Written Upon That Soul Thou Treadest On; It May Be A Soul That Christ Thought So Much Of, As To Give His Precious Blood For It; Therefore Despise It Not.

Perhaps 'tis Pretty To Force Together Thoughts So All Unlike Each Other; To Mutter And Mock A Broken Charm, To Dally With Wrong That Does No Harm.

We Ought Not To Extract Pernicious Honey From Poison Blossoms Of Misrepresentation And Mendacious Half-truth, To Pamper The Course Appetite Of Bigotry And Self-love.

Friends Should Be Weighed, Not Told; Who Boasts To Have Won A Multitude Of Friends Has Never Had One.