Hush, hush, rest my sweet; Rest, rest thy tired feet; Forget the storms and tears of thy brief hours; There's naught shall thee distress, Wrapt in sleep's blissfulness, Crowned by a dream, something as fair as flowers. Hush, dearest, hush; May no intruder brush From off thy bloomy cheek the downy kiss; May no inquiet fly Go rudely buzzing by To snatch away thy dear unconscious bliss. May dreams enchanted spread A pillow for thy head, And hang a curtain 'twixt thee and the sun; While smiles shall overflow Thy rosy lips as though The angels' whisper were too sweet for one. Then, sleep, my baby dear; Yet, lest the traitor, Fear, Should cry, "The child will waken nevermore!" Stir in thy dreams anon, Bidding the thought begone, And lift thine eyes to bless me as before! |