A little book of tribune verse | ||
50
HUSH-A-BY BABY.
Hush-a-by baby; as the birds fly,
We are off to the island of Lullaby;
I am the Captain, you are the crew,
And the cradle, I guess, is our birch bark canoe;
We'll drift away from the work-day shore
For a thousand long leagues or more,
Till we reach the strand where happy dreams wait,
Whether we're early or whether we're late.
We are off to the island of Lullaby;
I am the Captain, you are the crew,
And the cradle, I guess, is our birch bark canoe;
We'll drift away from the work-day shore
For a thousand long leagues or more,
Till we reach the strand where happy dreams wait,
Whether we're early or whether we're late.
Hush-a-by, baby; as the birds fly
Let us make the snug harbor of Lullaby.
Some little folks are far on the way;
Some have put in at Wide-awake Bay;
Others, I fear, are long overdue;
Don't let this happen, my darling, to you;
Let us steer for the coast where happy dreams wait,
Whether we're early or whether we're late.
Let us make the snug harbor of Lullaby.
Some little folks are far on the way;
Some have put in at Wide-awake Bay;
Others, I fear, are long overdue;
Don't let this happen, my darling, to you;
Let us steer for the coast where happy dreams wait,
Whether we're early or whether we're late.
November 13th, 1881.
A little book of tribune verse | ||