Close now thine eyes and rest secure Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure He that loves thee, he that keeps And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps. The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast Has only peace, has only rest The music and the mirth of Kings Are all but very discords, when she sings. Then close thine eyes and rest secure No sleep so sweet as thine, No rest so sure.
Written by: Francis Quarles, Sir Richard Rodney Bennett
