Hilda Conkling

Land of Nod

I wander mountain to mountain,

From sea to sea,

I wander into a country

Where everyone is asleep.

There in the Land of Nod

I never think of home,

For home is there,

With sleeping doves and silvery girls,

Sleeping boys and drowsy roses.

There I find people whose eyes are heavy,

And trees with folded wings.