Turn out the light, get into bed,
Upon the pillow rest my head.
The time is lateâ€”well after ten,
Too soon I must arise again,
So now Iâ€™d better get to sleep.
I guess Iâ€™ll start in counting sheep:
â€œOne, two; three, four; five, six; and seven;
Eight; nine, ten; and then eleven.â€
But now the twlfth sheepâ€™s gone astrayâ€”
That little black one in the hay.
I canâ€™t count sheep if they wonâ€™t mind,
Iâ€™ll have to leave the twelfth behind.
And now the rest have vanished too,
â€œOh dear, Oh dear! What shall I do?â€
Iâ€™ll have to get to sleep at once,
Or else in school Iâ€™ll play the dunce.
â€œOh, Morpheus, thou god of sleep,
Wonâ€™t you please bring back my sheep?â€
Oh! Here they come in single file,
Theyâ€™ve trotted many a weary mile.
Come! Over the fence, you lazy sheep.
Youâ€™ve got to help me get to sleep.
But thirteenâ€™s an unlucky ram;
For me he doesnâ€™t give a damn.
He tries it once and breaks a limb.
â€œCome, try againâ€ I say to him.
He tries again but still falls short.
The sheep behind begin to snort.
A final lean, and oâ€™er he goes.
Now fourteenâ€™s dancing on his toes.
So on they go in endless file
They all jump in the latest style.
â€™Til with sheep nine-hundred-forty-three,
Morpheus comes at last to me.
April 27, 1937