THE SAND-MAN.
Have you ever seen the sand-man, old,
Who comes to us every one, I'm told,
With his countless bags of silver sand,
And drops it down with an unseen hand;
And our eyelids very heavy grow,
As off to the land of dreams we go?
He is very shy. I have often tried
To keep my eyelids open wide
And watch for him. But he cheats me so,
And puts me to sleep before I know.
Is he like the wind, do you suppose,
Which is never seen when it comes and goes?
Oh, ho! The sand-man's fun is past,
He has gone to sleep himself at last;
We'll build a fort beside the sea,
And he our prisoner shall be.
He is not the wind with an unseen hand,
But a giant made of silver sand.