 | Songs for little people |  |
90
BEDFORDSHIRE
Italian stories we have read,
Now, merry hearts, be off to bed!
Say your prayers with heads bent down,
Pop into each flannel gown.
When mother brings the good-night sweet,
And tucks the clothes about your feet,
Then sink to rest; then ready be
To dream of doves in Tuscany.
Now, merry hearts, be off to bed!
Say your prayers with heads bent down,
Pop into each flannel gown.
When mother brings the good-night sweet,
And tucks the clothes about your feet,
Then sink to rest; then ready be
To dream of doves in Tuscany.
Here's chocolate for Tiny Tim,
Rob's not forgot, there's some for him!
Open that rosebud, Dorothy,
And taste how sweet Mamma can be!
To-morrow we will have a swing,
Or kiss the cowslips by the spring;
To-night be busy, one, two, three,
With dreams of doves in Tuscany.
Rob's not forgot, there's some for him!
Open that rosebud, Dorothy,
And taste how sweet Mamma can be!
To-morrow we will have a swing,
Or kiss the cowslips by the spring;
To-night be busy, one, two, three,
With dreams of doves in Tuscany.
91
Ah, nurse, how quick they are to weep,
Or melt from noisy romps to sleep!
Most precious faces in the world,
Rose-brown from sun, and golden curled!
As life o'ertakes them with surprise,
Stay, Innocency, in their eyes,
And keep their hearts a long time free
To dream of doves in Tuscany.
Or melt from noisy romps to sleep!
Most precious faces in the world,
Rose-brown from sun, and golden curled!
As life o'ertakes them with surprise,
Stay, Innocency, in their eyes,
And keep their hearts a long time free
To dream of doves in Tuscany.
| Songs for little people | |