Hush, my little sleepyhead, the stars are in the trees, The wind in carpet slippers shuffles by; Crickets rubbing rosin on their little fiddle knees, Moon is blowing bubbles down the sky. Lightning bugs are sprinkling little cups of golden dew, The swallow's head is underneath his wing; The goblin in the cotton tree is bringing dreams to you -- Can't you hear me coaxing him to sing! Fill your little arms with sleep and close your tired eyes And sail across the Sandman's golden sea; But when the moon has gone away and when the last star dies -- My little sleepyhead, come back to me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRIDGE: 7. THE TUNNEL by HAROLD HART CRANE TO HIS CONSCIENCE by ROBERT HERRICK SOUTHERN PACIFIC by CARL SANDBURG THE SPROUTING BOARD by AL-ISRA'ILI CHORUS OF THE CLOUD-MAIDEN: ANTISTROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES |