TO AN INFANT.
The days are, oold, Hie, flights are long, The north-wind sings a doleful song: Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are, now at rest, Save lime my pretty Love! 1 The kill"u sleeps upon the hearth, The crickets long have ceased their mirth; There's nothing stirring in Hie house Save one wee, hungiy, nibbling mouse, Then why so busy thou ? Nay! start not .at that sparkling light: 'Tis but Ihe moon that shines so bright On the window pane bedropped with rain: Then little Darling! sleep again, And wake when il is day. —Dorothy Wordswn'th.
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 97, Issue 1600, 31 May 1924, Page 16 (Supplement)
Word Count
101TO AN INFANT. Waikato Times, Volume 97, Issue 1600, 31 May 1924, Page 16 (Supplement)
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