William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.

Old Lizette on Sleep

BED is the boon for me!

It’s well to bake and sweep,

But hear the word of old Lizette:

It’s better than all to sleep.

Summer and flowers are gay,

And morning light and dew;

But aged eyelids love the dark

Where never a light seeps through.

What!—open-eyed, my dears,

Thinking your hearts will break?

There’s nothing, nothing, nothing, I say,

That’s worth the lying awake!

I learned it in my youth—

Love I was dreaming of!

I learned it from the needle-work

That took the place of love.

I learned it from the years

And what they brought about;

From song, and from the hills of joy

Where sorrow sought me out.

It’s good to dream and turn,

And turn and dream, or fall

To comfort with my pack of bones,

And know of nothing at all!

Yes, never know at all

If prowlers mew or bark,

Nor wonder if it’s three o’clock

Or four o’clock of the dark.

When the longer shades have fallen

And the last weariness

Has brought the sweetest gift of life,

The last forgetfulness,

If a sound as of old leaves

Stir the last bed I keep,

Then say, my dears: “It’s old Lizette—

She’s turning in her sleep.”

Poetry, A Magazine of Verse