The Cruellest Month

Methought I heard a voice cry, ‘Sleep no more! IDS does murder sleep- the disabled sleep, sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care and those who care for them, the death of each day’s struggle, sore labour’s bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, chief nourisher in life’s feast.’ Still it cried ‘Sleep no more’ to all the House; ‘IDS has murdered sleep, and therefore Chingford and Woodford Green shall sleep no more, IDS shall sleep no more.’