HOW SLEEP WAS MADE

A whisper, a shadow, a lullaby, A glint of gold from the evening sky, The wind that blows Where the poppy grows And the drowsy song that the river knows, A gay-winged fairy gathered up And locked away in a lily cup. When evening came, and the moon was bright, And the forest dreamed in a glory white, The fairy flew Where the lily grew, And opened it wide, as she’d planned to do; One moment she poised, on airy wing, And then in a rapture began to sing: “O, wonderful sight in the lily cup! How glad I am that I gathered up A whisper, a shadow, a lullaby, A glint of gold from the evening sky, The wind that blows Where the poppy grows And the drowsy song that the river knows, For my prisoners, down in the whiteness deep, Have made, ah, wonder! the thing called Sleep.”