In winter cold and chill,
At night, when all was still,
I’d wake to find her standing over me,
A smile upon her face,
A creepin ’round the place,
She’d tuck the cover over me, and sing:
Go to sleep, baby mine,
Little birdie in your nest;
Humming bees have left the vine,
Go to sleep and take your rest.
So many years have passed,
Since we assembled last,
That dear old soul has gone away to dwell.
If this whole world was mine,
The wealth I would decline,
If I could only hear my mother sing:
Go to sleep, baby mine,
Little birdie in your nest;
Humming bees have left the vine,
Go to sleep and take your rest.
GOD BLESS OUR COUNTRY.
———
God bless our home, land of the free,
And those who rule, who e’er they be;
Protect the flag, and let it wave
Over all free men, not the slave.
May we, dear Lord, sustain its name;
Forbid that it shall trail in shame;
To those who from oppression flee
May this, our land, a refuge be.
May we sustain all we profess;
Forbid that we should man oppress;
May we accept fraternal love
And live as we must live above.