I have been reading too much Robert Louis Stevenson

O sleep! You come in fits and starts
And this, I think, tires out my heart.
Though, in total, I acquire enough
It's rarely sound, refreshing stuff
And leaves me rather woozy-headed
With eyes all hazy and tongue, leaded.

And so, I ask a favour now
To let me slumber for an hour
Uninterrupted, if I may
As my child and her father play
Quietly on the other floor
That I might nap behind closed doors.

[oh yeah. Way too much of A Child's Garden of Verses, some of which takes me three tries to get through because the phrasing is so sketchy ... or maybe it's just the lack of sleep. and between him and the Ogden Nash, whooboy...]