Going to Sleep

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Going to Sleep

Little one, you must not fret

That I take your clothes away;

Better sleep you so will get,

And at morning wake more gay⁠—

Saith the children’s mother.

You I must unclothe again,

For you need a better dress;

Too much worn are body and brain;

You need everlastingness⁠—

Saith the heavenly father.

I went down death’s lonely stair;

Laid my garments in the tomb;

Dressed again one morning fair;

Hastened up, and hied me home⁠—

Saith the elder brother.

Then I will not be afraid

Any ill can come to me;

When ’tis time to go to bed,

I will rise and go with thee⁠—

Saith the little brother.