Let the stars of its twilight be dark; let it wait for light, and have none, neither let it see the eyelids of the dawn:

My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids is death-shade.

At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.

His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes are as the eyelids of the dawn.