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