The bed receives us now,

And its strong arms

Fold us about as a mother folds her children,—

Comforting, and long-accustomed, and secure.

Unquestioning our deserts;

Unfailing; never denying;

Never refusing our weariness;

Taking our weariness from us like a burden.

To petulance, to discomfort,

Answering with soft answers;