  Sleep, little one! The Twilight folds her gloom Full tenderly about the drowsy Day, And all his tinselled hours of light and bloom Like toys are laid away. Sleep! sleep! The noon-sky’s airy cloud of white Has deepened wide o’er all the azure plain; And, trailing through the leaves, the skirts of Night Are wet with dews as rain. But rest thou sweetly, smiling in thy dreams, With round fists tossed like roses o’er thy head, And thy tranc’d lips and eyelids kissed with gleams |
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