Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep!

Over my heart in the days that are flown,

No love like mother-love ever has shown;

No other worship abides and endures,—

Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours;

None like a mother can charm away pain

From the sick soul or the world-weary brain.

Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep—

Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,