I know a man
          With face of tan,
But who is ever kind;
          Whom girls and boys
          Leaves games and toys
Each eventide to find.

          When day grows dim,
          They watch for him,
He comes to place his claim;
          He wears the crown
          Of Dreaming-town;
The sand-man is his name.

          When sparkling eyes
          Troop sleepywise
And busy lips grow dumb;
          When little heads
          Nod toward the beds,
We know the sand-man's come.