  Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep, Red is the moon in the night’s still deep, White are the stars with their silver wings Folded in dreamings of beautiful things, And over their cradle the night wind sings, Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep. Soft in the lap of the mother night The wee baby stars, all glowing and bright, Flutter their silver wings and crow To the watchful winds that kiss as they blow Round the air-cradle that swings so low Down in the lap of the mother night. Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep, Red is the moon in the night’s still deep, And the wee baby stars are all folded and kissed In a luminous cradle of silver mist; And if ever they waken the winds cry, Whist, Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep. |
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