Poems by Elizabeth Stoddard
page 28 of 92 (30%)
page 28 of 92 (30%)
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A BABY SONG. Come, white angels, to baby and me; Touch his blue eyes with the image of sleep, In his surprise he will cease to weep; Hush, child, the angels are coming to thee! Come, white doves, to baby and me; Softly whirr in the silent air, Flutter about his golden hair: Hark, child, the doves are cooing to thee! Come, white lilies, to baby and me; Drowsily nod before his eyes, So full of wonder, so round and wise: Hist, child, the lily-bells tinkle for thee! Come, white moon, to baby and me; Gently glide o'er the ocean of sleep, Silver the waves of its shadowy deep: Sleep, child, and the whitest of dreams to thee. THE WIFE SPEAKS. |
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