 | Poems |  |
MOTHERS' SONGS.
II.
O babe of my bosom,
Unto this heart nearest,
My rosebud—my blossom,
My darling—my dearest;
God's gift, sent to bless me,
Me, bending above you,
Whose dear eyes caress me,
Me—me, who so love you;
O babe of my bosom,
To this fond heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
Unto this heart nearest,
My rosebud—my blossom,
My darling—my dearest;
God's gift, sent to bless me,
Me, bending above you,
Whose dear eyes caress me,
Me—me, who so love you;
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To this fond heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
Ere God gave my treasure
My life to be blessing,
To love beyond measure
This breast he's caressing,
How often in seeming
These tiny hands pressed me!
How sweet was my dreaming
My baby caressed me!
O, babe of my bosom,
Lie to my heart nearest,
My treasure, my blossom,
My fondest, my dearest!
My life to be blessing,
To love beyond measure
This breast he's caressing,
How often in seeming
These tiny hands pressed me!
How sweet was my dreaming
My baby caressed me!
O, babe of my bosom,
Lie to my heart nearest,
My treasure, my blossom,
My fondest, my dearest!
Yes, laugh in these eyes so!
To mother's be telling
The love that I prize so,
From that dear heart welling!
O, never that love, boy,
In after years smother!
O, love none above, boy,
Your own fondest mother!
O, babe of my bosom,
To this fond heart nearest,
Still will you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
To mother's be telling
The love that I prize so,
From that dear heart welling!
O, never that love, boy,
In after years smother!
O, love none above, boy,
Your own fondest mother!
O, babe of my bosom,
To this fond heart nearest,
Still will you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
Ah, bud, whom I'm bending
And brooding o'er ever,
One love is unending,
One colder grows never;
Those eyes while they're living
Will surely see others,
Fond love to them giving,
But none like your mother's.
O, babe of my bosom,
Unto this heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
And brooding o'er ever,
One love is unending,
One colder grows never;
Those eyes while they're living
Will surely see others,
Fond love to them giving,
But none like your mother's.
30
Unto this heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My best be, and dearest.
O, if sad and lonely
In far coming morrows,
One heart, if one only,
Will share all your sorrows;
This, nothing estranging,
Should all the world leave you,
This—this, all unchanging,
With love will receive you.
O, babe of my bosom,
Unto my heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My own be, my dearest.
In far coming morrows,
One heart, if one only,
Will share all your sorrows;
This, nothing estranging,
Should all the world leave you,
This—this, all unchanging,
With love will receive you.
O, babe of my bosom,
Unto my heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
My own be, my dearest.
Drink, drink at my bosom,
Your cheek to it pressing;
Make blest, O, my blossom,
This heart you're caressing!
O, still to your mother
Be only a gladness,
A pride, and no other,
No shame and no sadness!
O, babe of my bosom,
To mother's heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
To mother be dearest.
Your cheek to it pressing;
Make blest, O, my blossom,
This heart you're caressing!
O, still to your mother
Be only a gladness,
A pride, and no other,
No shame and no sadness!
O, babe of my bosom,
To mother's heart nearest,
Still must you, my blossom,
To mother be dearest.
O, dear God, who gave him,
My babe, to be warming
This heart—you will save him,
My bud, from all harming.
Half fearful I tremble,
O, life loved so dearly,
Sleep seems to resemble
Death in you so nearly.
Sleep, babe of my bosom!
Thou, Father, Thou hearest
My prayer for my blossom,
My darling, my dearest.
My babe, to be warming
This heart—you will save him,
My bud, from all harming.
Half fearful I tremble,
O, life loved so dearly,
Sleep seems to resemble
Death in you so nearly.
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Thou, Father, Thou hearest
My prayer for my blossom,
My darling, my dearest.
My joy will not leave me;
While him God is sparing,
For all that can grieve me
This heart's little caring.
Then, soft in my bosom,
Rest, baby, unfearing!
God guards you, my blossom;
Our prayer He is hearing.
Sleep, babe, on my bosom,
To mother's heart nearest!
Still, still must my blossom
To mother be dearest.
While him God is sparing,
For all that can grieve me
This heart's little caring.
Then, soft in my bosom,
Rest, baby, unfearing!
God guards you, my blossom;
Our prayer He is hearing.
Sleep, babe, on my bosom,
To mother's heart nearest!
Still, still must my blossom
To mother be dearest.
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