Sleep, the Order of the Heavenly Host

A woman would come into existence while I was sleeping, conceived from some strain in the position of my limbs. Formed by the appetite that I was on the point of gratifying, she was, I imagine, who offered me that gratification. My body, conscious that its own warmth was permeating hers, would strive to become one with her and out away. And then gradually the memory of her would dissolve and vanish until I had forgotten the maiden of my dream. When a man is asleep, he has in a circle around him the chain of the hours, the sequence of the years, the order of the heavenly host. Distinctively, when he awakes, he looks to these