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George Weatherla

Sleep. $ LEEP! Sleep!

Sleep, my dearie, sleep, and dream!

Roaming where roses are rife, To sweeten the tear-fed stream That waters the tree of life; Take thou my song for a boat, And sail on my voice for a sea; There let it wander and float Where thou desirest to be.

A thou fearest, lift thine eyes, For mine are thy guiding star To light thee where heaven lies Behind yon fiery bar.

There laughing and clapping of hands, Bright angels with shining feet Run over the golden sand To greet thee, and meet thee, my sweet.

Sleep! Sleep!

When thou tirest for thy home, Weary for thy rest, Call love, and he shall come, And bear thee to his breast.

So it is best.