The Champlain Sandman

The Sandman comes pattering across the Bay:

His hair is silver,

His footstep soft.

The moon shines on his silver hair,

On his quick feet.

The Sandman comes searching across the Bay:

He goes to all the houses he knows

To put sand in little girls' eyes.

That is why I go to my sleepy bed,

And why the lake-gull leaves the moon alone.

There are no wings to moonlight any more,

Only the Sandman's hair.