by Dorothy Parker

Sleep, pretty lady, the night is enfolding you;

Drift, and so lightly, on crystalline streams.

Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkness is holding you;

Starlight bespangles the way of your dreams.

Chorus the nightingales, wistfully amorous;

Blessedly quiet, the blare of the day.

All the sweet hours may your visions be glamorous-

Sleep, pretty lady, as long as you may.

Sleep, pretty lady, the night shall be still for you;

Silvered and silent, it watches you rest.

Each little breeze, in its eagerness, will for you

Murmur the melodies ancient and blest.

So in the midnight does happiness capture us;

Morning is dim with another day's tears.

Give yourself sweetly to images rapturous-

Sleep, pretty lady, a couple of years.

Sleep, pretty lady, the world awaits day with you;

Girlish and golden, the slender young moon.

Grant the fond darkness its mystical way with you;

Morning returns to us ever too soon.

Roses unfold, in their loveliness, all for you;

Blossom the lilies for hope of your glance.

When you're awake, all the men go and fall for you-

Sleep, pretty lady, and give me a chance.