Sleep, dearest, sleep, and bright dreams compass thee.
My sleepless thoughts a guard of love shall be
Around thy couch and bid thee dream of me.
Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.
Sleep, dearest, sleep, the slumber of the pure;
Sleep, dearest, sleep, in angels' care secure.
Evil itself thy beauty would allure
To cease from ill and make thy joyance sure.
Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.
Sleep, dearest, sleep; in slumber thou art mine;
Sleep, dearest, sleep; our souls still intertwine.
Yon radiant star that on thy couch doth shine
Bears from my lips a kiss to lay on thine.
Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep. Arthur Weir