 | The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich |  |
CRADLE SONG
I
Ere the moon begins to riseOr a star to shine,
All the bluebells close their eyes—
So close thine,
Thine, dear, thine!
II
Birds are sleeping in the nestOn the swaying bough,
Thus, against the mother-breast—
So sleep thou,
Sleep, sleep, thou!
| The poems of Thomas Bailey Aldrich | |