PRESENT—GRACE, MARY, and the BABY.
* * * * *
THE QUESTION ILLUSTRATED BY EXPERIENCE.
Grace.
[Sings.]
Hither, Sleep! A mother wants thee!
Come with velvet arms!
Fold the baby that she grants thee
To thy own soft charms!
Bear him into Dreamland lightly!
Give him sight of flowers!
Do not bring him back till brightly
Break the morning hours!
Close his eyes with gentle fingers!
Cross his hands of snow!
Tell the angels where he lingers
They must whisper low!
I will guard thy spell unbroken
If thou hear my call;
Come then, Sleep! I wait the token
Of thy downy thrall.
Now I see his sweet lips moving;
He is in thy keep;
Other milk the babe is proving
At the breast of sleep!
Mary.