Bogie man'll catch yo' sure unless yo' close yo' eyes, Waitin' jes outside de doo' to take yo' by surprise: Bes' be keepin' shady, Little colored lady, Close yo' eyes in sleep. Richard Henry Buck [1869 MINNIE AND WINNIE MINNIE and Winnie slept in a shell. Sleep, little ladies! Wake not soon! Two bright stars peeped into the shell. "What are they dreaming of? Who can tell?" Started a green linnet out of the croft; Wake, little ladies! The sun is aloft. Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892] BED-TIME SONG SLEEP, my baby, while I sing Sleep, my baby, while I sing. Under mother-bird's soft breast. Baby now must go to sleep. THE dark-fringed eyelids slowly close Upon my breast my own sweet child Has gently dropped to sleep; And tuck my baby in. How fair and innocent he lies; Like some small angel strayed, His face still warmed by God's own smile, Or like some new embodied soul, Still pure from taint of sin My thoughts are reverent as I stoop To tuck my baby in. What toil must stain these tiny hands What shadows creep across the face O what am I that I should train Or mix the potent draught that feeds The soul within these eyes? 93 I reach him up to the sinless Hands Great Father, with Thy folds of love, Curtis May [18 But first put baith your big teeth In his wee plump sides; I Gie your auld gray pow a shake,' -¡'I Rive him frae my grup, Tak' him whaur nae kiss is gaun Whatna noise is that I hear Coomin' doon the street? Weel I ken the dump, dump, t. ďî O' her beetle feet; Mercy me! she's at the door! Hear her lift the sneck; Wheesht, an' cuddle mammy noo, Closer roun' the neck. Jenny wi' the airn teeth, The bairn has aff his claes; Sleepin' safe an' soun', I think— qua Dinna touch his taes. Ye may turn aboot, An' tak' awa' wee Tam next door→→T I hear him screichin' oot. e Bigger bogies, bigger Jennies,. Frichten muckle men. * Alexander Anderson [1845-1909] Wi' muckle faucht an' din; 20! I "O, try an' sleep, ye waukrife rogues, Your father's comin' in." They never heed a word I speak;d orl I Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid-M Bangs up an' cries, "I want a piece;" The rascal starts them a'. I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks, But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab The mischief's in that Tam for tricks, At length they hear their father's fit, They turn their faces to the wa', While Tam pretends to snore. "Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks, As he pits aff his shoon; "The bairnies, John, are in their beds, An' lang since cuddled doon." An' just afore we bed oorsel's, We look at oor wee lambs; Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, An' Rab his airm 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 Will quaten doon their glee. May He who sits aboon Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld, "O bairnies, cuddle doon." Alexander Anderson [1845-1909] |