Cradle-song at the bed-side of a sick child

Sleep, little child, sleep!

As you sleep, you are so good.

Outside red in the midday sun

There glows one of the finest cherries.

When you awaken, we shall go,

And my finger will pluck it for you.

Sleep, little child, sleep!

As you sleep, you are so good.

Ever sweeter the sun ripens

Your cherry, for your delight;

Sleep, then little child, lightly covered,

Until you awake with an appetite for it.

Sleep, little child, sleep!

As you sleep, you are so good.