Posted by: Oklahoma Sun | February 14, 2010

Evening On The Ranch.

Evening On The Ranch.
(Lullaby for Baby Florence)


Agnes K. Gibbs. The Songs of Colorado, 1916.

 

COME, my darling, for day is done;
Voices of dreamland call thee, Sweet;
Lean on my bosom, my fatherless one!
Come to your rest, little weary feet.
Trying to help through the long, long day,
Tired, so tired is Mother’s own girl;
Mother’s wee woman, who works for her play!
Working and playing are over, my pearl;
Sleep, my little one. Sleep. Sleep.

Lonely and steep is the path we must tread,
Oh little comrade in measureless loss!
Soon, ah, too soon, on thy innocent head
Has fallen the sorrowful shade of the cross.
But thou knowest it not! Thy sweet eyes shine;
Thy little feet patter, with gladness shod;
Never dreaming how weary are mine,
Rest, my treasure; my gift of God.
Sleep, my little one. Sleep. Sleep.

Thou hearest never thy father’s voice;
Never thy kisses his deep kiss meet,
My orphan baby! But still rejoice,
He sees thee; he guards thee, from otherwhere, Sweet.
He and thy mother but love thee the more;
Folded in earthly and Heavenly love,
With the tears and smiles of the daytime o’er;
Slumber on in thy nest, my dove!
Sleep, my little one. Sleep. Sleep.

Droop, white lids, o’er the flower-blue eyes,
Lilies among the gentians sown!
Restfully now on my shoulder lies
The bright head, like to her father’s own.
My kisses rain on the dewy mouth,
The loving fingers round mother’s curled;
Fanned by the tenderest breeze of the south,
Sleep, my flower, my rose of the world!
Sleep, my little one. Sleep. Sleep.
—Colorado Springs, 1915.

 

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