By Winona Douglas
(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
Sleep, little dream child, in mother’s arms;
Cuddle yet closer and take your rest,
Eyelids now hiding the blue eyes since laughing,
Laughing in glee here on mother’s breast.
Dear are the moments with you I am spending;
Toil is forgotten in comfort and calm.
Together we are, wee one, in the gloaming,
Evening blessed,—my babe’s coo is a psalm.—