For a Sleeping Child Lullabies and Midnight Musings

Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night
  Sailed off in a wooden shoe --
Sailed on a river of crystal light
  Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going and what do you wish?"
  The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
  That live in this beautiful sea;
  Nets of silver and gold have we!"
    Said Wynken,
    Blynken,
    And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
  As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
  Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
  That lived in that beautiful sea --
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish --
  Never afeard are we!"
  So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
    Wynken,
    Blynken,
    and Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
  To the stars in the twinkling foam.
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
  Bringing the fishermen home.
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
  As if it could not be
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
  Of sailing that beautiful sea --
  But I shall name you the fishermen three:
    Wynken,
    Blynken,
    and Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
  And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
  Is a wee one's trundle bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
  Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
  As you rock in the misty sea,
  Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
    Wynken,
    Blynken,
    and Nod.

Hushaby,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby,
When you wake,
You shall have
All the pretty little horses
Blacks and bays,
Dapples and grays
Coach and six-a little horses
Hushaby,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleepy, little baby.

 ... 

It is so still in the house.
There is a calm in the house;
The snowstorm wails out there,
And the dogs are rolled up with snouts under the tail.
My little boy is sleeping on the ledge,
On his back he lies, breathing through open mouth
His little stomach is bulging round
Is it strange if I start to cry with joy?

Last night, my darling as you slept,
I thought I heard you sigh,
And to your little crib I crept,
And watched a space thereby;
Then, bending down, I kissed your brow
For, oh! I love you so
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know.

Some time, when, in a darkened place
Where others come to weep,
Your eyes shall see a weary face,
Calm in eternal sleep;
The speechless lips, the wrinkled brow,
The patient smile may show
You are too young to know it now
But some time you shall know.

Look backward, then, into the years,
And see me here to-night
See, O my darling! how my tears
Are falling as I write;
And feel once more upon your brow
The kiss of long ago
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know.