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Show Where Baby Sleeps. The little mound where baby sleeps, Is canopied by flowers fair, And, over all, the ivy creeps, And weaves its tendrils here and there. The softest rays of sunlight fall. When even tints the glowing west, As though to shadow over all. The tiny sleeper there at rest. The guardian angel vigiT keeps, Where baby sleeps, where baby sleeps. The little mound where baby lies, Is kissed by dews from heaven above; But oh, the drowsing little eyes Are sightless to our tender love! 3ut bird songs, ever sweet and low Are filling all that hallowed place; While kindly branches lean, as though To clasp her in their close erribrace. The modest little violet peeps, Sad-eyed, but sweet, where baby sleeps. The sacred spot where baby sleeps, Is touched by breezes fair and light, And as the dusk of even creeps Across the threshold of the night, And mantling shadows nestle 'round. And slowly veil the glowing west. They wrap that tiny, hallowed mound In canopies of love and rest; While from above the father keeps His faithful watch, where baby sleeps E. A. Brininstool. |