The Sand-Man
I know a manWith face of tan,But who is ever kind;Whom girls and boysLeaves games and toysEach eventide to find.
When day grows dim,They watch for him,He comes to place his claim;He wears the crownOf Dreaming-town;The sand-man is his name.
When sparkling eyesTroop sleepywiseAnd busy lips grow dumb;When little headsNod toward the beds,We know the sand-man’s come.