Sleep, little ladies! Wake not soon!
Echo on echo dies to the moon.
Two bright stars peeped into the shell.
"What are they dreaming of? Who can tell?"
Started a green linnet out of the croft;
Wake, little ladies! The sun is aloft.
Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892]
BED-TIME SONG
Sleep, my baby, while I sing
Bed-time news of everything.
Chickens run to mother hen;
Piggy curls up in the pen.
In the field, all tired with play,
Quiet now the lambkins stay.
Kittens cuddle in a heap—
Baby, too, must go to sleep!
Sleep, my baby, while I sing
Bed-time news of everything.
Now the cows from pasture come;
Bees fly home with drowsy hum.
Little birds are in the nest,
Under mother-bird's soft breast.
Over all soft shadows creep—
Baby now must go to sleep.
Sleep, my baby, while I sing
Bed-time news of everything.
Sleepy flowers seem to nod,
Drooping toward the dewy sod;
While the big sun's fading light
Bids my baby dear good-night.
Mother loving watch will keep;
Baby now must go to sleep.
Emilie Poulsson [1853-