THE SLEEPING CHILD

My baby slept — how calm his rest,

As o'er his handsome face a smile

Like that of angel flitted, while

He lay so still upon my breast!

My baby slept — his baby head

Lay all unkiss'd‘ neath pall and shroud:

I did not weep or cry aloud —

I only wished I, too, were dead!

My baby sleeps — a tiny mound,

All covered by the little flowers,

Woos me in all my waking hours,

Down in the quiet burying-ground.

And when I sleep I seem to be

With baby in another land —

I take his little baby hand —

He smiles and sings sweet songs to me.

Sleep on, O baby, while I keep

My vigils till this day be passed!

Then shall I, too, lie down at last,

And with my baby darling sleep.