The Book of the Native

by Charles G.D. Roberts

 

Sleepy Man

 
When the Sleepy Man comes with the dust on his eyes
    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
He shuts up the earth, and he opens the skies.
    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He smiles through his fingers, and shuts up the sun;
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    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
The stars that he loves he lets out one by one.
    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He comes from the castles of Drowsy-boy Town;
    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
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At the touch of his hand the tired eyelids fall down.
    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He comes with a murmur of dream in his wings
    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
And whispers of mermaids and wonderful things.
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    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

Then the top is a burden, the bugle a bane
    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
When one would be faring down Dream-a-way Lane,
    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)
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When one would be wending in Lullaby Wherry
    (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
To Sleepy Man’s Castle by Comforting Ferry.
    (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)