Now while rest the happy herds, And in folds the fleecy sheep, All the boughs are full of birds, Crowding, sound asleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep, Under the fair, fair flocks of stars That roam all night and know no bars, Sleep, sweet, sleep! Now if we an Owl could ride,-- Yes, an Owl with yellow eyes, Globy lanterns, clear and wide, Flaming while he flies,-- We should see the pretty things, Pretty little sleepy souls! All their heads beneath their wings, Blind with sleep as moles! Sleep, sleep, sleep, Under the wild, winged winds that fly All night long across the sky, Sleep, sweet, sleep! |