LULLABY. Else will the sheep-dog bark and whine, Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! Away! and tend the sheep. Away, thou black dog, fierce and wild, Sleep, baby, sleep! SONG FROM THE GERMAN. LULLABY. LULLABY! O lullaby! Baby, hush that little cry! Light is dying, Bats are flying Bees to-day with work have done; Lullaby! O lullaby! Hushed are all things far and nigh; Birds reposing, All sweet things with life have done. WM. C. BENNETT. 9 10 A ROCKING HYMN. A ROCKING HYMN. SWEET baby, sleep; what ails my dear ; My pretty lamb, forbear to weep; Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear? Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing, Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear, GEORGE WITHER. THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. 11 THE LITTLE ONES IN BED. A ROW of little faces in the bed; A gentle mother leads them in their praise, Then tumbling headlong into waiting beds, All dressed like angels in their gowns of white, THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. Up with the sun in the morning, Away to the garden he hies, To see if the sleepy blossoms Have begun to open their eyes. 12 THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. Running a race with the wind, Now to the brook he wanders Has gleams like his golden hair, Nor the rosiest stem of coral That blushes in ocean's bed From a broad window my neighbor Looks down on our little cot, And watches the " poor man's blessing" I cannot envy his lot. He has pictures, books, and music, Bright fountains, and noble trees, Flowers that blossom in roses, Birds from beyond the seas; To the tread of innocent feet. THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. This child is our "speaking picture," (Our other one has wings,) His heart is a charmed casket, Full of all that's cunning and sweet, And no harp-strings hold such music As follows his twinkling feet. When the glory of sunset opens I see by the gates of pearl, And I ask to be taught and directed From messengers trusty and fleet, On the starry floor of heaven, The patter of little feet. 13 |