Tucking the Baby In 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. Hattie Starr (18 TUCKING THE BABY IN THE dark-fringed eyelids slowly close Upon my breast my own sweet child How fair and innocent he lies; Like some small angel strayed, His face still warmed by God's own smile, Or like some new embodied soul, Still pure from taint of sin— My thoughts are reverent as I stoop What toil must stain these tiny hands What shadows creep across the face O what am I that I should train Or mix the potent draught that feeds The soul within these eyes? 89 I reach him up to the sinless Hands Great Father, with Thy folds of love, O tuck my baby in. Curtis May [18 "JENNY WI' THE AIRN TEETH" WHAT a plague is this o' mine, Winna steek an e'e; Though I hap him o'er the heid, Sleep an' let me to my wark- Come an' tak' the bairn! Tak' him to your ain den, But first put baith your big teeth Gie your auld gray pow a shake, Tak' him whaur nae kiss is gaun Whatna noise is that I hear Coomin' doon the street? O' her beetic feet; Hear her lift the sneck; Closer roun' the neck. Jenny wi' the airn teeth, The bairn has aff his claes; Cuddle Doon Sleepin' bairns are no for you, Ye may turn aboot, An' tak' awa' wee Tam next door- Dump, dump, awa' she gangs He's a crabbit, greetin' thing- Mithers hae an awfu' wark Weel eneuch we ken, Bigger bogies, bigger Jennies, Frichten muckle men. Alexander Anderson [1845-1909] CUDDLE DOON THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht They never heed a word I speak; I try to gie a froon, But aye I hap them up, an' cry, "O bairnies, cuddle doon." Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid- I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks, But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab The mischief's in that Tam for tricks, At length they hear their father's fit, While Tam pretends to snore. "Hae a' the weans been gude?” he asks, As he pits aff his shoon; "The bairnies, John, are in their beds, An' lang since cuddled doon.” An' just afore we bed oorsel's, We look at oor wee lambs; Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, An' Rab his airm roun' Tam's. I lift wee Jamie up the bed, An' as I straik each croon, I whisper, till my heart fills up, "O bairnies, cuddle doon." The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht But sune the big warl's cark an' care Yet, come what will to ilka ane, May He who sits aboon Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld, "O bairnies, cuddle doon." Alexander Anderson [1845-1909] Bedtime 93 BEDTIME 'Tis bedtime; say your hymn, and bid "Good-night; I laid her golden curls upon my arm, I drew her little feet within my hand, Her rosy palms were joined in trustful bliss, Francis Robert St. Clair Erskine [1833-1890] |