We will go back to Lady Why, and listen to her voice.

It sounds gentle and cheerful enough just now.
Listen.
What?
is she speaking to us now?
Hush! open your eyes and ears once more, for you are growing sleepy with my long sermon.

Watch the sleepy shining water, and the sleepy green mountains.

Listen to the sleepy lapping of the ripple, and the sleepy sighing of the woods, and let Lady Why talk to you through them in "songs without words," because they are deeper than all words, till you, too, fall asleep with your head upon my knee.
But what does she say?
She says--"Be still.

The fulness of joy is peace." There, you are fast asleep; and perhaps that is the best thing for you; for sleep will (so I am informed, though I never saw it happen, nor any one else) put fresh gray matter into your brain; or save the wear and tear of the old gray matter; or something else--when they have settled what it is to do: and if so, you will wake up with a fresh fiddle-string to your little fiddle of a brain, on which you are playing new tunes all day long.