Shut now those slumber-haunted eyes, 'Tis but the lonely owl that cries, Tu-whit, tu-whoo! And oh, its burden is -- Come soon Sleep to the drowsy little one! Stir not thy hands! The wind that goes To breathe the sweetness of the rose, Sighs softly through; And oh, its whisper is -- Come soon Sleep to the drowsy little one! Fold thy bright lips! The voice that wails Is the far-echoing nightingale's, Lone to the moon; And all her music is -- Come soon Sleep to the drowsy little one! |