Cradle Song • William Blake
Sleep,
beauty
bright,
Dreaming
in the joys of
NIGHT;
Sleep, sleep;
in thy
sleep
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 night
shall break.