Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,Dreaming in the joys of night;Sleep, sleep; in thy sleepLittle sorrows sit and weep.
Sweet babe, in thy faceSoft desires I can trace,Secret joys and secret smiles,Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel,Smiles as of the morning stealO’er thy cheek, and o’er thy breastWhere thy little heart doth rest.
O the cunning wiles that creepIn thy little heart asleep!When thy little heart doth wake,Then the dreadful light shall break.