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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IRISH LULLABY, by                    
First Line: "I'll put you myself, my baby! To slumber"
Last Line: "to and fro, my own sweet baby!"


I'll put you, myself, my baby, to slumber,
Not as 'tis done by the clownish number,--
A yellow blanket and coarse sheet bringing,
But in golden cradle that's softly swinging
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my bonnie baby!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my own sweet baby!

I'll put you, myself, my baby, to slumber,
On sunniest day of the pleasant summer,
Your golden cradle on smooth lawn laying.
'Neath murmuring boughs that the birds are swaying
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my bonnie baby!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my own sweet baby!

Slumber, my babe! may the sweet sleep woo you,
And from your slumbers may health come to you--
May all diseases now flee and fear you,
May sickness and sorrow never come near you!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my bonnie baby!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my own sweet baby!

Slumber, my babe! may the sweet sleep woo you,
And from your slumbers may health come to you,
May bright dreams come, and come no other,
And I be never a sonless mother!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my bonnie baby!
To and fro, lu la lo,
To and fro, my own sweet baby!





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