Where sleep is our best portion. Only sleep.”
He sighed, and the archangels echoed him:
Those three whose sire, unknown to them last night,
Had dreamed again—a star above a stable.
“Not even sleep,” said Michael. “No, not even
Sleep,” droned weary Gabriel. But Raphael’s
Sadness was for Artemis to see,
And seeing, to have pity on, that no word
Henceforth could express.
For now the ship