OH! go to sleep, my baby dear, And I will hold thee on my knee; Thy mother's in her winding sheet, And thou art all that's left to me. My hairs are white with grief and age, I've borne the weight of every ill, And I would lay me with my child, But thou art left to love me still. Should thy false father see thy face, The tears would fill his cruel e'e, But he has scorned thy mother's wo, And he shall never look on thee: But I will rear thee up alone, And with me thou shalt aye remain; For thou wilt have thy mother's smile, And I shall see my child again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7. OF PLEASURE AND PAIN by THOMAS CAMPION THE APOSTLE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER FATI VALET HORA BENIGNI by SAMUEL BISHOP FEARS AND SCRUPLES by ROBERT BROWNING A MOTHER'S LAMENT [FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON] by ROBERT BURNS |