Asleep, asleep, asleep is she,
Who’s more than all the world to me.
While through her body runs the health
That’s all to me of all my wealth—
The gold, the diamonds, pearls of lore,
That many men have hunted for,
But l have her who’s glories vie
With suns and moons and starry sky,
With hundred roses in a vale,
And thousand tulips nodding, hale,
And million sparrows tweeting sweet
In chimes of cheer that can’t be beat,
With all the waves of foamy white
And gladd’ning snows on shining height–
For more than all the world is she
Who’s sleeping, sleeping, tenderly.