The flowers have gone to bed, The moon's begun to shine. Each nods its little head Upon its stem so fine. The branches rustle; and they seem To sigh as in a dream, Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy, Sleep, my baby, sleep. The birds that sang so sweetly By day, have gone to rest, And each is tucked up neatly All in its little nest; The cottage in the garden here Is still awake, I fear. Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy, Sleep, my baby, mine. The Sandman will be coming And poking in his head, To look for naughty children That haven't gone to bed And if he takes them by surprise, The sand flies in their eyes! Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy, Sleep, my baby, sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES THE FLOWER BOAT by ROBERT FROST NOTES FOR THE FIRST LINE OF A SPANISH POEM by JAMES GALVIN SMALL COUNTRIES by JAMES GALVIN SONNET TO THOSE WHO SEE BUT DARKLY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |