Sleep, sleep, curtained round
By dim-coloured tapestries,
Wrought of dreams, nor let the sound
Stir thee of my melodies.
May sleep come to thee as slow
And as soft as falling snow!
Stars set in their spheres
Presage for thee all delight;
Sleep fall soft as tears
Of the stars the dews of night;
All fair things about thee keep,
Music that doth mix with sleep.
Dreams come, shining things,
Through the curtains of thy bed;
Doves fly with soft wings
Round thy golden, drowsy head:
Sleep, dream, dreaming smile,
Curtained from the world awhile.