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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!

85

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.

Kentucky Babe

A weary little mortal

Has gone to slumberland;

The Pixies at the portal

Have caught her by the hand.

She dreams her broken dolly

Will soon be mended there,

That looks so melancholy.

Upon the rocking-chair.

I kiss your wayward tresses,
My drowsy little queen;

I know you have caresses

From floating forms unseen.

O, Angels, let me keep her

To kiss away my cares,

This darling little sleeper,

Who has my love and prayers!
Samuel Minturn Peck [1854-

87

KENTUCKY BABE

'SKEETERS am a hummin' on de honeysuckle vine,

Sleep, Kentucky Babe!

GM

Sandman am a comin' to dis little coon of mine,→

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Silv'ry moon am shinin' in de heabens up above,

Bobolink am pinin' fo' his little lady love:

Yo' is mighty lucky,

Babe of old Kentucky,-
Close yo' eyes in sleep.

Fly away,

Fly away, Kentucky Babe, fly away to rest,

Fly away,

Lay yo' kinky, woolly head on yo' mammy's breast,-
Um-Um-,

Close yo' eyes in sleep.

Daddy's in de cane-brake wid his little dog and gun,—

Sleep, Kentucky Babe!

'Possum fo' yo' breakfast when yo' sleepin' time is done,— Sleep, Kentucky Babe!

Bogie man'll catch yo' sure unless yo' close yo' eyes, Waitin' jes outside de doo' to take yo' by surprise: Bes' be keepin' shady,

Little colored lady,

Close yo' eyes in sleep.

Richard Henry Buck [1869

LITTLE ALABAMA COON

I's a little Alabama Coon,

And I hasn't been born very long;

I 'member seein' a great big round moon;
I 'member hearin' one sweet song.

When dey tote me down to de cotton field,

Dar I roll and I tumble in de sun;

While my daddy pick de cotton, mammy watch me grow, And dis am de song she sung:

Go to sleep, my little pickaninny,

Bre'r Fox'll catch you if yo' don't;

Slumber on de bosom of yo' ole Mammy Jinny,—

Mammy's gwine to swat yo' if you won't.

Sh! sh! sh!

Lu-la, lu-la lu-la lu-la lu!

Underneaf de silver Southern moon;

Rock-a-by! hush-a-by!

Mammy's little baby,

Mammy's little Alabama Coon.

Dis hyar little Alabama Coon

Specks to be a growed-up man some day;
Dey's gwine to christen me hyar very soon,-
My name's gwine to be "Henry Clay."
When I's big, I's gwine to wed a yellow gal;
Den we'll hab pickaninnies ob our own;
Den dat yallow gal shall rock 'em on her bosom,
And dis am de song she'll croon:

Go to sleep, my little pickaninny,

Bre'r Fox'll catch you if yo' don't;

Slumber on de bosom of yo' ole Mammy Jinny,-
Mammy's gwine to swat yo' if you won't.

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