This is for you, Tom. Because tomorrow is your birthday.
Good friends, let's to the fields—I have a fever.
After a little walk, and by your pardon,
I think I'll sleep. There is no sweeter thing,
Nor fate more blessed, than to sleep. Here, world,
I pass you like an orange to a child:
I can no more with you. Do what you will.
~Edgar Lee Masters,
from "To-morrow Is My Birthday"
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