The Sandman. Rhymes and Jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge for children
Oho! but he travels the country over,
The queer little, kind little, elfish rover!
Lightly he bears in his tricksome hand
A silvery horn full of sleepy sand,
Shaking it here, and shaking it there,
Till the blossoms nod in the drowsy air;
Till the sunlight creeps up hill to bed,
Or slips through the sky where clouds are red;
Till the lambkins bleat a soft "good-night!"
And birds grow still in the tree-tops bright,
While sweet little eyelids, all over the land,
Droop with the weight of the silvery sand.
Oho! Oho! where the Sand Man goes
Every one wonders and nobody knows;
For just when the right time comes to peep,
Little and big are falling asleep.
He steals to the cradles, the cribs, the beds,
And sprinkles his sand over children's heads,
Till bright little faces lie warm and still,
Smiling or grave, at the Sand Man's will.
He catches them often at full midday,
And bids them stop in their merry play—
With a "Ho! my darling," "Hi! my dear,"
"I'll sing a dream-song into your ear."
Some on the carpet, some on the chairs,
Some curled up on the nursery stairs;
Some in the grass where the shadows play,
Some hidden deep in the fragrant hay,
And some who, folded in mother's embrace,
Float in a lullaby, pressing her face.
Oho! but he travels the country over,
The queer little, kind little, elfish rover!
And whence he comes, and whither he goes,
Every one wonders, and nobody knows;
For just when the right time comes to peep,
All the children are falling asleep.