Light and
rosy be thy
slumbers Rock'd
upon thy mother's
breast,
She can lull
thee with
her numbers
To the cradle
heav'n of
rest.
In her heart
is love revolving,
|
Like the planets
or the moon;
Hopes and
pleasures
fondly
solving Keeping
ev'ry thought
in tune.
When thy look
her care inviteth,
|
All the mother
tums to thee,
|
And her inmost
life delighteth,
|
Drinking from
thy cup of
glee.
O'er thee
now her spirit,
|
bendeth; Child
of promise
cherished
well!
With thine
own her being
blendeth,
Hallow'd by
affeetion's
spell.
|