Tremble, as she wakes to speak;
From the pillow she is springing,
And the baby-accents ringing,
Like the song-bird’s from its bars,
“I was waking up the stars!”
Baby dear, so sweetly dreaming,
All the world so guileless seeming;
We’re the stars that need awaking;
’Tis our slumber that needs breaking.
Life’s short day is almost done;