"Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee, Where shall the baby's dimple be?

Where shall the angel's finger rest

When he comes down to the baby's nest?
Where shall the angel's touch remain
When he awakens my babe again?"

Still as she bent and sang so low,

A murmur into her music broke;

And she paused to hear, for she could but know The baby's angel spoke :

"Cheek or chin, knuckle or knee,
Where shall the baby's dimple be?

Where shall my finger fall and rest
When I come down to the baby's nest?
Where shall my finger's touch remain.
When I awaken your babe again?

Silent the mother sat, and dwelt

Long in the sweet delay of choice;

And then by the baby's side she knelt,
And sang with pleasant voice:

Not on the limb, O angel dear,

For the charm with its youth will disappear;
Not on the cheek shall the dimple be,

For the harboring smile will fade and flee;
But touch thou the chin with an impress deep,

And my baby the angel's seal shall keep."

-J. G. Holland

SLEEP, BABY, SLEEP!

LEEP, baby, sleep!

SLE

Thy father watches his sheep;

Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,
And down comes a little dream on thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

The large stars are the sheep;
The little stars are the lambs, I guess ;
And the gentle moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Our Saviour loves His sheep;

He is the Lamb of God on high,
Who for our sakes came down to die.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

LADY MOON

LADY MOON, Lady Moon, where are you

roving?

Over the sea.

Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
All that love me.

Are you not tired with rolling, and never

Resting to sleep?

Why look so pale and so sad, as forever
Wishing to weep?

Ask me not this, little child, if you love me:
You are too bold :

I must obey my dear Father above me,
And do as I'm told.

Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? Over the sea.

Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? All that love me.

-Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton)

THE NEW MOON

EAR mother, how pretty
The moon looks to-night!

She was never so cunning before;
Her two little horns

Are so sharp and so bright,
I hope she'll not grow any more.

If I were up there,

With you and my friends,
I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see;

I'd sit in the middle

And hold by both ends;

Oh, what a bright cradle 't would be!

I would call to the stars
To keep out of the way,
Lest we should rock over their toes;
And then I would rock

Till the dawn of the day,

And see where the pretty moon goes.

And there we would stay

In the beautiful skies,

And through the bright clouds we would roam; We would see the sun set,

And see the sun rise,

And on the next rainbow come home.

-Mrs. Follen

LULLABY

OME hither, little restless one,

CO

'Tis time to shut your eyes;

The sun behind the hills has gone, The stars are in the skies.

See, one by one they show their light

How clear and bright they look!

Just like the fireflies in the night,

That shine beside the brook.

You do not hear the robins sing,
They're snug within their nest;

And sheltered by their mother's wing,
The little chickens rest.

The dog, he will not frolic now,
But to his kennel creeps;
The turkeys climb upon the bough

And e'en the kitten sleeps.

The very violets in their bed

Fold up their eyelids blue,

And you, my flower, must droop your