Swung in the hammocks bright, ’neath summer trees,
Where the breath of roses floats on the breeze.
Come, little earth-star, where the babies laugh,
Drinking the sweet milk God hath made to quaff.
Bathed in the sunshine ever fresh and new,
Tell them we are watching up in the blue.
Tell them we’re shining still ’mid the light;
Glitt’ring and twinkling all through the night.
Gleaming at morn ’tween rose-clouds aglow;
Peering through the dark storm laden with snow.