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!_