The Sleeping Child

My baby slept-how calm his rest,
As o'er his handsome face a smile
Like that of angel flitted, while
He lay so still upon my breast!

My baby slept-his baby head
Lay all unkiss'd 'neath pall and shroud:
I did not weep or cry aloud-
I only wished I, too, were dead!

My baby sleeps-a tiny mound,
All covered by the little flowers,
Woos me in all my waking hours,
Down in the quiet burying-ground.

And when I sleep I seem to be
With baby in another land-
I take his little baby hand-
He smiles and sings sweet songs to me.

Sleep on, O baby, while I keep
My vigils till this day be passed!
Then shall I, too, lie down at last,
And with my baby darling sleep.