Читать книгу The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 262, July 7, 1827 - Various - Страница 3

O Sink to sleep, my darling boy,

  Thy father's dead, thy mother lonely,

Of late thou wert his pride, his joy,

  But now thou hast not one to own thee.

The cold wide world before us lies,

  But oh! such heartless things live in it,

It makes me weep—then close thine eyes

  Tho' it be but for one short minute.

O sink to sleep, my baby dear,

  A little while forget thy sorrow,

The wind is cold, the night is drear,

  But drearier it will be to-morrow.

For none will help, tho' many see

  Our wretchedness—then close thine eyes, love,

Oh, most unbless'd on earth is she

  Who on another's aid relies, love.

Thou hear'st me not! thy heart's asleep

  Already, and thy lids are closing,

Then lie thee still, and I will weep

  Whilst thou, my dearest, art reposing,

And wish that I could slumber free,

  And with thee in yon heaven awaken,

O would that it our home might be,

  For here we are by all forsaken.