How many thousands of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighten thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
(Shakespeare : Henry IV : Part 2)
He that sleeps feels not the tooth ache.
(Shakespeare : Cymbeline)
Sleep that knits up the ravel’d sleave of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
(Shakespeare : Macbeth)
Oh sleep! It is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
(S.T. Coleridge : Ancient Mariner)
Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas,
Ease after war, death after life does greatly please.
(Spenser : The Faerie Queen)