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SEA-BIRDS are asleep,

The world forgets to weep,

Sea murmurs her soft slumber-song

On the shadowy sand

Of this elfin land;

"I, the Mother mild,

Hush thee, O my child,
Forget the voices wild!
Isles in elfin light

Dream, the rocks and caves,
Lull'd by whispering waves,
Veil their marbles bright,
Foam glimmers faintly white
Upon the shelly sand

Of this elfin land;
Sea-sound, like violins,

To slumber woos and wins,
I murmur my soft slumber-song,
Leave woes, and wails, and sins,
Ocean's shadowy night
Breathes good-night,

Roden Noel


SWEET and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!

Over the rolling waters go,

Come from the dying moon and blow,

Blow him again to me;

While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;

Rest, rest, on mother's breast,

Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west

Under the silver moon;

Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one,


Alfred Tennyson


HUSH! my dear, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;

All without thy care or payment:
All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou 'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended
And became a child like thee!

Soft and easy is thy cradle:

Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When His birthplace was a stable And His softest bed was hay.

Blessed babe! what glorious features -
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?

Was there nothing but a manger
Cursed sinners could afford

To receive the heavenly stranger?
Did they thus affront their Lord?

Soft, my child: I did not chide thee, Though my song might sound too hard;

'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,

And her arms shall be thy guard.

Yet to read the shameful story

How the Jews abused their King, How they served the Lord of Glory, Makes me angry while I sing.

See the kinder shepherds round Him,
Telling wonders from the sky!

Where they sought Him, there they found

With His Virgin mother by.

See the lovely babe a-dressing;
Lovely infant, how He smiled!
When He wept, the mother's blessing
Soothed and hushed the holy child.

Lo, He slumbers in His manger,
Where the hornèd oxen fed;
Peace, my darling; here's no danger,
Here's no ox anear thy bed.

'T was to save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,

Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came.

May'st thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;

Then go dwell forever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise.

Isaac Watts


ERE the moon begins to rise
Or a star to shine,

All the blue bells close their eyes-
So close thine,

Thine, dear, thine!

Birds are sleeping in the nest
On the swaying bough,

Thus, against the mother-breast

So sleep thou,

Sleep, sleep, thou!

Thomas Bailey Aldrich


SLEEP, baby, sleep!

Thy father watches the sheep;

Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree, And down falls 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,

The fair moon is the shepherdess :

Sleep, baby, sleep!


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