Lord, when on my bed I lie,
Sleepless, unto Thee I'll cry;
When my brain works overmuch,
Stay the wheels with Thy soft touch.
Just a quiet thought of Thee,
And of Thy sweet charity,--
Just a little prayer, and then
I will turn to sleep again.
Whirring Wheels
William Arthur Dunkerley (john Oxenham)
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Poem topics: sleep, sweet, stay, brain, touch, soft, quiet, thought, prayer, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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