Deep in the night;
When all is still,
A moonbeam climbs the window-sill.
Over your bed;
It softly flies,
To see if sleep has closed your eyes.
A pinch of gold;
Some fairy land,
Is clasped within that moonbeam's hand.
And if by chance;
Your are not asleep,
It comes tip-toe on gentle feet.
To touch your eyes;
With golden beam,
And take you to the land of dreams.
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