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ROCKABY, baby, on the tree-top;
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall ;
Down will come baby and cradle and all.

BY-Lo, baby-bunting!
Papa's gone a-hunting;
Mamma's gone to get a skin
To wrap her baby-bunting in.

CRADLE-SONG.

R. W. GILDER.

In the embers shining bright,
A garden grows for thy delight,
With roses yellow, red, and white.
But, O my child, beware, beware!
Touch not the roses growing there,
For every rose a thorn doth bear!

WILLIE WINKIE.

WILLIAM MILLER.

WEE Willie Winkie rins through the town,
Up-stairs and doon-stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock,
“ Are the weans in their bed? - for it's now ten
Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben ?
The cat's singin'gay thrums to the sleepin' hen,
The doug's speldered on the floor, and disna gie a

o'clock.”

cheep;

But here's a waukrife laddie that winna fa' asleep.

Onything but sleep, ye rogue ! - glowerin' like the

moon, Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon ; Rumblin' tumblin' roun' about, crawin' like a cock, Skirlin' like a kenna-what — wauknin' sleepin' folk.

Hey, Willie Winkie! the wean's in a creel, Waumblin' aff a bodie's knee like a vera eel; Ruggin' at the cat’s lug, and ravellin' a' her thrums: Hey, Willie Winkie! — See, there he comes !

Weary is the mither that has a storie wean,
A wee stumpie stoussie that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee;
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to

me.

CUDDLE DOON.

ALEXANDER ANDERSON.

THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht,

Wi muckle faucht an' din;
Oh, try an' sleep, ye waukrife rogues,

Your father's comin' in.

They never heed a word I speak;

I try to gie a froon,
But aye I hap them up, an' cry,

“O bairnies, cuddle doon.”

Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid —

He aye sleeps next the wa'
Bangs up an' cries, “I want a piece”;

The rascal starts them a'.
I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks,

They stop awee the soun';
Then draw the blankets up and cry,

“Noo, weanies, cuddle doon."

But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab

Cries oot frae 'neath the claes, “Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance

He's kittlin' wi' his taes."
The mischief's in that Tam for tricks,

He'd bother half the toon:
But aye I hap them up an' cry,

“O bairnies, cuddle doon."

At length they hear their father's fit,

An', as he steeks the door, They turn their faces to the wa',

While Tam pretends to snore. “ Hae a' the weans been gude ?” he asks,

As he pits off his shoon ; “ The bairnies, John, are in their beds,

An' lang since cuddled doon."

An' just afore we bed oorsel',

We look at oor wee lambs;
Tam has his airms roun' wee Rab's neck,

An' Rab his airms roun' Tam’s.
I lift wee Jamie up the bed,

An', as I straik each croon,
I whisper, till my heart fills up,

“O bairnies, cuddle doon."

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht,

Wi' mirth that's dear to me;
But sune the big warl's cark an' care

Will quaten doon their glee.
Yet come what will to ilka ane,

May He who sits aboon
Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld,

“O bairnies, cuddle doon."

I THINK WHEN I READ THAT SWEET STORY

OF OLD.

JEMIMA LUKE.

I THINK, when I read that sweet story of old,

When Jesus was here among men, How He called little children as lambs to his fold,

I should like to have been with Him then.

I wish that His hand had been placed on my head,

That His arms had been thrown around me,

And that I might have heard His kind voice when

He said, “ Let the little ones come unto me.”

Yet still to His foot-stool in prayer

I

may go, And ask for a share in His love; And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,

I shall see Him and hear Him above,

In that beautiful home He has gone to prepare

For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,

For of such is the kingdom of heaven.

TO THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.

FROM THE FRENCH OF MME. Tasty. TRANSLATED AND ARRANGED BY THE EDITORS.

WATCH over me while I'm asleep,
And, as God bids you, vigil keep;
And every night above my head
Bend down, dear Angel, o'er the bed.
Have pity on my feebleness,
Walk by my side to guard and bless ;
Talk to me all along the way,
And, while I hearken what you say,
Lest I should fall, help me to stand ;
I pray you, Angel, hold my hand !

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