University of Virginia Library


227

“THE INFANT'S THREE SABBATHS.”

Slumber, infant, slumber,
On thy mother's breast;
Kisses without number
Rain upon thy rest—
Well they come from many lips,
But from her's the best,
Slumber, infant, slumber,
On thy mother's breast.
Slumber, infant, slumber,
On the earth's cold breast,
Blossoms without number
Bloom about thy rest.
Nature, clad in all her smiles
Greets so fair a guest,
Slumber, infant, slumber,
On the earth's cold breast.
Slumber, infant, slumber
On an angel's breast,
Glories without number,
Consecrate thy rest.

228

Deeper joys than we can know
Wait upon the blest,
Slumber, infant, slumber,
On an angel's breast.
 

Arranged to a native Indian air by the Rev. John Griffiths.