Rudyard Kipling (30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)
There was a landau deep and wide,
Cushioned for Sleep's own self to sit on--
The glory of the country-side
From Tanner's End to Marlow Ditton.
John of the broad and brandied cheek
(Well I recall its eau-de-vie hues!)
Drove staid Sir Ralph five days a week
At speeds which we considered Jehu's...
But now' poor John sleeps very sound,
And neither hears nor smells the fuss
Of the young Squire's nine-hundred-pound--
Er-Mors communis omnibus.
And I who in my daily stroll
Observe the reckless chauffeur crowd her,
Laudator temporis, extol
The times before the Act allowed her.
Read poems about / on: sleep
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