The father tends the sheep.
Thy mother shakes the dreamland tree,
Softly fall sweet dreams for thee,
Sleep, baby, sleep.


Sleep, baby, sleep.
The large stars are the sheep.
The little stars are the lambs, I guess,
And the gentle moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep.


Sleep, baby, sleep.
Down where the woodbines creep.
Be always like the lamb so mild,
A kind, and sweet, and gentle child.
Sleep, baby, sleep.