Love-Songs of Childhood | Page 6

as my dear babe lay dead,
Before mine eyes the vision
spread
Of things that might have been:
Licentious riot, cruel strife,

Forgotten prayers, a wasted life
Dark red with sin!
Then, with sweet music in the air,
I saw another vision there:
A
Shepherd in whose keep
A little lamb - my little child!
Of worldly
wisdom undefiled,
Lay fast asleep!
Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,
In those two messages I read

A wisdom manifest;
And though my arms be childless now,
I am
content - to Him I bow
Who knoweth best.
THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD
It's when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks, That,
clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;
Then it's sleep no
more for baby, and it's sleep no more for me, For, when he wants his
dinner, why it's dinner it must be!
And of that lacteal fluid he
partakes with great ado,
While gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,

And wife, she laughs,
And I - well, I laugh, too!
You'd think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,
That, like as

not, that baby was the first we'd ever had;
But, sakes alive! he isn't,
yet we people make a fuss
As if the only baby in the world had come
to us!
And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,

Gran'ma, she laughs,
Gran'pa, he laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I,
of course, laugh, too!
But once - a likely spell ago - when that poor little chick From teething
or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,
You wouldn't know us
people as the same that went about
A-feelin' good all over, just to
hear him crow and shout;
And, though the doctor poohed our fears
and said he'd pull him through, Old gran'ma cried,
And gran'pa cried,

And wife, she cried,
And I - yes, I cried, too!
It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,
With his
everlastin' crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face; The patter of his
pinky feet makes music everywhere,
And when he shakes those fists
of his, good-by to every care! No matter what our trouble is, when he
begins to coo,
Old gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,
Wife, she
laughs,
And I - you bet, I laugh, too!
SO, SO, ROCK-A-BY SO!
So, so, rock-a-by so!
Off to the garden where dreamikins grow;

And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes,
And here is a kiss on
your dimpledown cheek
And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies

In the beautiful garden way up in the skies
Which you seek.
Now
mind these three kisses wherever you go -
So, so, rock-a-by so!
There's one little fumfay who lives there, I know,
For he dances all
night where the dreamikins grow;
I send him this kiss on your
droopydrop eyes,
I send him this kiss on your rosyred cheek.
And
here is a kiss for the dream that shall rise
When the fumfay shall
dance in those far-away skies
Which you seek.
Be sure that you pay
those three kisses you owe -
So, so, rock-a-by so!

And, by-low, as you rock-a-by go,
Don't forget mother who loveth
you so!
And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes,
And here is
her kiss on your peachypink cheek,
And here is her kiss for the
dreamland that lies
Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies

Which you seek -
The blinkywink garden where dreamikins grow -

So, so, rock-a-by so!
THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD
A sunbeam comes a-creeping
Into my dear one's nest,
And sings to
our babe a-sleeping
The song that I love the best:
"'T is little
Luddy-Dud in the morning -
'T is little Luddy-Dud at night;
And all
day long
'T is the same sweet song
Of that waddling, toddling,
coddling little mite,
Luddy-Dud."
The bird to the tossing clover,
The bee to the swaying bud,
Keep
singing that sweet song over
Of wee little Luddy-Dud.
"'T is little
Luddy-Dud in the morning -
'T is little Luddy-Dud at night;
And all
day long
'T is the same dear song
Of that growing, crowing,
knowing little sprite,
Luddy-Dud."
Luddy-Dud's cradle is swinging
Where softly the night winds blow,

And Luddy-Dud's mother is singing
A song that is sweet and low:

"'T is little Luddy-Dud in the morning -
'T is little Luddy-Dud at
night;
And all day long
'T is the same sweet song
Of my nearest
and my dearest heart's delight,
Luddy-Dud!"
THE DUEL
The gingham dog and the calico cat
Side by side on the table sat;
'T
was half-past twelve, and (what do you think!)
Nor one nor t' other
had slept a wink!

The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate

Appeared to know as sure as fate
There was going to be a terrible spat.

(I wasn't there; I simply state
What was told to me by the Chinese

plate!)
The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow!"
And the calico cat replied
"mee-ow!"
The air was littered, an hour or so,
With bits of gingham
and calico,
While the old Dutch clock in the chimney place
Up with
its hands before its face,
For it always dreaded a family row!
(Now
mind: I'm only telling you
What the old Dutch clock declares is true!)
The Chinese plate looked very blue,
And wailed, "Oh, dear! what
shall we