Oh Enemy Night, oh Friend Morning
How often I confuse thee to my great sorrow.
Better now to bed, cease from striving.
And wake to take my aim the morrow.
For at end of day, when my hopes have failed
I seek to draw favor of this enemy veiled,
And in this, I borrow from my friend morning,
And fecklessly I give its power to the night.
How night loves diversion,
And morning loves the getting.
Morning cannot yield guiltless leisure,
And night consumes my time unwitting.
But, go to now, and sleep,
Go early to bed and set thy hope upon a new day.
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