To sleep! To sleep!
O we are so sleepy!
Blinky, winky eyes:
Why are you so peepy
Ere the twilight dies?
O we are so sleepy:
Nodding is each head,
Playing at bo-peepy,
Now the day is sped.
Birdies in their nesties
Rest in slumber deep;
Nodland's full of guesties
When we go to sleep.
To sleep! To sleep!
O we are so sleepy!
Blinky, winky eyes:
Why are you so peepy
When the twilight dies?
The slight mist that had descended went up just like a gauze curtain, bringing into view again the lovely garden reposing in the rear in a beautiful green bath of light.
Then the merry Winny Weg caught hold of the cupids and incited them to dance a slow gavotte, and as they danced they warbled lusciously:—
Cupid's Garden.
O chaste and sweet are the flowers that blow
In Cupid's Garden fair;
Shy Pansies for thoughts in clusters grow,
And Lilies pure and rare.
Violets white, and Violets blue,
And budding Roses red,
With Orange-bloom of tend'rest hue
Their fragrance gently spread.
Other voices, which seemed to belong to the lads and lasses in the garden, joined in the chorus:—
Love is born of the Lily and Rose,
Love in a garden springs;
With maidens pure and bright it grows,
And in all hearts it sings.
Love lies Bleeding with Maiden's Blush,
Sighing Forget-me-not;
While the Gentle Heart with crimson flush
Peeps from its cooling grot.
And Love lies dreaming in idleness
To gain its own Heart's-Ease;
The Zephyrs breathe with shy caress,
Each youthful breast to please.