William Blake (1757–1827)

SWEET dreams, form a shade

O’er my lovely infant’s head;

Sweet dreams of pleasant streams

By happy, silent, moony beams.

Sweet sleep, with soft down

Weave thy brows an infant crown.

Sweet sleep, Angel mild,

Hover o’er my happy child.

Sweet smiles, in the night

Hover over my delight;

Sweet smiles, mother’s smiles,

All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,

Chase not slumber from thy eyes.

Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,

All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep, sleep, happy child,

All creation slept and smil’d;

Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,

While o’er thee thy mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face

Holy image I can trace.

Sweet babe, once like thee,

Thy maker lay and wept for me.

Wept for me, for thee, for all,

When He was an infant small.

Thou His image ever see,

Heavenly face that smiles on thee,

Smiles on thee, on me, on all;

Who became an infant small.

Infant smiles are His own smiles;

Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.