Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,
Your head like the golden-rod,
And we will go sailing away from here
To the beautiful Land of Nod.
Away from life's hurry and flurry and worry,
Away from earth's shadows and gloom,
To a world of fair weather we'll float off together,
Where roses are always in bloom.
Just shut your eyes and fold your hands,
Your hands like the leaves of a rose,
And we will go sailing to those fair lands
That never an atlas shows.
On the North and the West they are bounded by rest,
On the South and the East, by dreams;
'Tis the country ideal, where nothing is real,
But everything only seems.
Just drop down the curtains of your dear eyes
Those eyes like a bright bluebell,
And we will sail out under starlit skies,
To the land where the fairies dwell.