I know a man
    With face of tan,
But who is ever kind;
    Whom girls and boys
    Leaves games and toys
Each eventide to find.

    When day grows dim,
    They watch for him,
He comes to place his claim;
    He wears the crown
    Of Dreaming-town;
The sand-man is his name.

    When sparkling eyes
    Troop sleepywise
And busy lips grow dumb;
    When little heads
    Nod toward the beds,
We know the sand-man's come.