My baby slept—how calm his rest,
As o'er his handsome face a smile
Like that of angel flitted, while
He lay so still upon my breast!
My baby slept—his baby head
Lay all unkiss'd 'neath pall and shroud:
I did not weep or cry aloud—
I only wished I, too, were dead!
My baby sleeps—a tiny mound,
All covered by the little flowers,
Woos me in all my waking hours,
Down in the quiet burying-ground.
And when I sleep I seem to be
With baby in another land—
I take his little baby hand—
He smiles and sings sweet songs to me.
Sleep on, O baby, while I keep
My vigils till this day be passed!
Then shall I, too, lie down at last,
And with my baby darling sleep.