Cradle Song

Sleep, baby, sleep,

Our cottage vale is deep;

The little lamb is on the green,
With woolly fleece so soft and clean,
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep,

Down where the woodbines creep;
Be always like the lamb so mild,
A kind and sweet and gentle child,
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Good Night!

Little baby, lay your head
On your pretty cradle-bed;

Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tucked in tight;
Little baby dear, good night.

Yes, my darling, well I know
How the bitter wind doth blow;
And the winter's snow and rain
Patter on the window-pane:
But they cannot come in here,
To my little baby dear.

For the window shutteth fast,
Till the stormy night is past;
And the curtains warm are spread
Round about her cradle-bed:
So till morning shineth bright
Little baby dear, good night!

ANN AND JANE TAYLOR.

For Those a Little Older

A Bunch of Lent Lilies

Here three Poets treat the same flower each from his own distinct and delightful point of view. To the first it appeals as the flower of courage, the brave early comer; to the second it is the early goer, the flower of a too swift departure-though daffodils really bloom for a fairly long time, as flowers go; the third is grateful for an imperishable recollection.

Daffodils

Daffodils

That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.

To Daffodils

SHAKESPEARE.

Fair daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon.

Stay, stay

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the evensong;