LEONTINE.
P. S. Our guests proved to be General and Mr. George Washington Lafayette. They came to take leave of us ere their departure for La Grange. The Chamber of Deputies having dissolved, they go to the country to-morrow, where the rest of the family have already established themselves. We have been so pressingly invited to pay them a visit, that we have determined to do so, and anticipate great pleasure and gratification from spending a day or two in the midst of this charming and highly respected family. Again adieu.
L.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
MY DAUGHTER'S LULLABY.
Tune—"The Sunset Tree."
| Come! Come! Come! Come to thy Mother's breast! The day begins to close: And the bright, but fading west Invites thee to repose. The frolic and the fun Of thy childish sports are o'er: But, with to-morrow's sun, To be renewed once more. Come! Come! Come! Come to thy Mother's breast! The day begins to close: And the bright, but fading west Invites thee to repose. Sweet! Sweet! Sweet! Sweet on thy Mother's knee! To con thine evening prayer, To him who watches thee With a Father's tender care. For parents and for friends Then breathe thy simple vow; And when life's evening ends, Be innocent as now. Come! Come! Come! Come to thy Mother's breast! The day begins to close: And the darkening of the west Invites thee to repose. Sleep! Sleep! Sleep! Sleep till the morning beams! My song is in thine ear, To mingle with thy dreams, And to tell thee I am near. Bright be thy dreams, my child! Bright as thy waking eyes, As the morning beaming mild, Or the hope that never dies. Sleep! Sleep! Sleep! Sleep on thy Mother's breast! Thine eyes begin to close; And she that loves thee best Has lulled thee to repose. |