OCR Text |
Show THE OLD CRADLE. Harper's Hazar. I am banished to the garret now; My busy days are o'er; Within my sheltering embrace The babies sleep no more. No more, as. in the bygi.ne hours, My dreary heat keeps time In patent, sleepy monotone With the old nursery rhyme: "Kock-a-by baby, on the tree-top. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. The last rays of the setting sun Slant through the windows small; They liRht the Barret's dusky gloom. And on my head they fall. Along their level hart of old Old pictures come and go; Attain I hear the mother's voice HinniiiK so s-il't and low; "Koc-k-a by baby, upon the 1ree-top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock." Ah. me: where ence the baby heads The downy pillows prest. Within my ample uakeu hood The spider has her tie.-:t. Empty, f'jrtroite'.i mid alone, A iml"n thinii a ii I; The last words or th- 'iiialnt old song Full like a partlnrs lIi: "When the bought bna :s the cradle will lull - . Down will go cradle and baby and all." |