LULLABY

From The Mistress of the Manse"

ROCKABY, lullaby, bees in the clover!
Crooning so drowsily, crying so low,
Rockaby, lullaby, dear little rover!
Down into wonderland,

Down to the under-land
Go, oh go!

Down into wonderland go!

Rockaby, lullaby, rain on the clover!
(Tears on the eyelids that waver and weep!)
Rockaby, lullaby-bending it over!

Down on the mother-world,

Down on the other world,
Sleep, oh sleep!

Down on the mother-world sleep!

Rockaby, lullaby, dew on the clover!
Dew on the eyes that will sparkle at dawn!
Rockaby, lullaby, dear little rover!

Into the stilly world,

Into the lily world,

Gone! oh gone!

Into the lily world gone!

Josiah Gilbert Holland [1819-1881]

CRADLE SONG

From "Bitter-Sweet"

WHAT is the little one thinking about?
Very wonderful things, no doubt!

Unwritten history!

Unfathomed mystery!

Yet he laughs and cries, and eats and drinks,
And chuckles and crows, and nods and winks,

Cradle Song

As if his head were as full of kinks
And curious riddles as any sphinx!

Warped by colic, and wet by tears,
Punctured by pins, and tortured by fears,
Our little nephew will lose two years;
And he'll never know

Where the summers go;

He need not laugh, for he'll find it so!

Who can tell what a baby thinks?
Who can follow the gossamer links

By which the mannikin feels his way
Out from the shore of the great unknown,
Blind, and wailing, and alone,

Into the light of day?—

Out from the shore of the unknown sea,
Tossing in pitiful agony;—

Of the unknown sea that reels and rolls,
Specked with the barks of little souls,-
Barks that were launched on the other side,
And slipped from Heaven on an ebbing tide!
What does he think of his mother's eyes?
What does he think of his mother's hair?
What of the cradle-roof, that flies
Forward and backward through the air?
What does he think of his mother's breast,
Bare and beautiful, smooth and white,
Seeking it ever with fresh delight,—

Cup of his life, and couch of his rest?

What does he think when her quick embrace

Presses his hand and buries his face

Deep where the heart-throbs sink and swell

With a tenderness she can never tell,

Though she murmur the words

Of all the birds,

Words she has learned to murmur well?
Now he thinks he'll go to sleep!

I can see the shadow creep
Over his eyes, in soft eclipse,
Over his brow, and over his lips,

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Out to his little finger-tips!
Softly sinking, down he goes!
Down he goes! down he goes!
See! he is hushed in sweet repose!

Josiah Gilbert Holland [1819-1881]

AN IRISH LULLABY

I'VE found my bonny babe a nest
On Slumber Tree,

I'll rock you there to rosy rest,
Asthore Machree!

Oh, lulla lo! sing all the leaves
On Slumber Tree,

Till everything that hurts or grieves
Afar must flee.

I've put my pretty child to float
Away from me,

Within the new moon's silver boat

On Slumber Sea.

And when your starry sail is o'er
From Slumber Sea,

My precious one, you'll step to shore
On Mother's knee.

Alfred Perceval Graves [1846

CRADLE SONG

SLEEP, baby, sleep!

Thy father's watching the sheep,

Thy mother's shaking the dreamland tree,
And down drops a little dream for thee.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

The large stars are the sheep,

The little stars are the lambs, I guess,
The bright moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Song

Sleep, baby, sleep!

And cry not like a sheep,

Else the sheep-dog will bark and whine
And bite this naughty child of mine.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

The Saviour loves his sheep;

He is the Lamb of God on high

Who for our sakes came down to die.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Away to tend the sheep,

Away, thou sheep-dog fierce and wild
And do not harm my sleeping child!
Sleep, baby, sleep!

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Elizabeth Prentiss [1818-1878]

SONG

SLEEP, O my darling, sleep,
Safe folded are the sheep;

The faint stars lie in the quiet sky,
The soft wind croons thy lullaby;
The leaves upon the linden tree
Are whispering tenderly to thee;
And close at hand lies Slumberland,
O, sleep, my darling, sleep.

Wake, O my darling, wake,
The sunbeams kiss the lake;
The seagulls fly to the eastern sky,
The happy ships are sailing by;

The birds upon the linden tree

Are calling merrily to thee;

The whole glad earth is rimmed with mirth,

O, wake, my darling, wake.

C. Kathleen Carman [18

MOTHER-SONG

From "Prince Lucifer"

WHITE little hands!
Pink little feet!
Dimpled all over,

Sweet, sweet, sweet!

What dost thou wail for?

The unknown? the unseen?

The ills that are coming,

The joys that have been?

Cling to me closer,

Closer and closer,

Till the pain that is purer

Hath banished the grosser.

Drain, drain at the stream, love,
Thy hunger is freeing,
That was born in a dream, love,

Along with thy being!

Little fingers that feel

For their home on my breast,

Little lips that appeal

For their nurture, their rest!
Why, why dost thou weep, dear?

Nay, stifle thy cries,

Till the dew of thy sleep, dear,

Lies soft on thine eyes.

Alfred Austin (1835

MY LITTLE GIRL

My little girl is nested

Within her tiny bed,

With amber ringlets crested

Around her dainty head;

She lies so calm and stilly,

She breathes so soft and low,

She calls to mind a lily

Half-hidden in the snow.