A CRADLE SONG OF LIFE

Lullaby baby,

Hushaby baby!

After the day

Comes night with a dream!

Dear little hands,

Dear little feet,

Quiet at last;

Closed are the eyes:

Lullaby, hushaby baby!

When you awake

Will you forget

All the old toys,

The lessons you learned,

The bruises that hurt

When you fell down?

Uncouthly you sprawled

And frequently fell,

Learning to walk:

Was falling a sin,

Were bruises a shame,

Baby, my brave little baby?

What dreams do you dream,

What sounds do you hear

Out of the splendour —

Out of the wonder —

Out of the peace

Of Rest-A-While Land?

How little they know

Who call this a grave —

‘ Tis but a cradle,

And death is a sleep

From which you will waken

To try it again!

How little they know

Who prattle of sin,

And tell on their beads

Misereres for grace:

Baby must fall

That baby may rise!

Renewed by the rest,

Made strong by the dream,

More firmly your feet

Shall find out a way

Past the old blunders

Into the dawn!

Lullaby baby,

Hushaby baby!

After the day

Comes night with a kiss

Soft on the brow,

Hands and the feet —

Folding them,

Holding them —

Feet that are tired from falling;

Hands that are weary from failing;

Brow that is furrowed from weeping:

Brow, hands, feet — resting for mastery!