RUNNING barefoot all the day, Time for him to go to bed. We must wash the dust away, While he droops his little head. I will sing, and all for you, Bayu-bayusbkf-bayu. Who is tapping at the door? I can guess. It's only Sleep. Hair of flax and hand of wax, Not the little chimney-sweep. Softly now I sing for you, Bayusbkf-bayu. Where've you been, Sleep? Over hill. What to see? The Moon was bright. All alone? My sister too. Brought her with you? Not to-night. Gently now I sing to you, Bayusbkf-bayu. Drowsy Moon is weak and pale, Far above us in the sky. Someone at the window-sill Murmurs, murmurs, "Here am I." Very low I sing to you, Bayusbkf-bayu. Someone murmurs at the sill, Like the rustling of a bough, "I am very faint and ill. Help me, brother, help me now." Lower yet I sing to you, Bayusbkf-bayu. "I've been mowing all the day, I am tired, I am ill." Flits a shade across the pane, Hides below the window-sill. But I sing, and all for you, Bayu-bayusbkf-bayu. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR WALT WHITMAN by DAVID IGNATOW ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE LEAVES FIRST by CARL PHILLIPS BUCOLIC COMEDY: KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR MAID by EDITH SITWELL |