  Baby’s little bed should be White as drifting snow; Pure and sweet as Heaven’s air, Where the soft clouds glow. Baby’s tiny coverlet Should be lambs’ wool white, Dainty as the pelican, Fluffy, warm and light. Baby’s pillow should be made Light as eider down, With a cover clean and soft As its little gown. Pin a rose upon the wall, Something great or small, Place where baby’s eyes can see In its quiet revery. Baby understands the flowers; They will cheer its waking hours. Place the feathered songster near; Let him trill for baby’s ear. Baby understands sweet song, With no words of right or wrong. Guileless babies. Jesus told How, within the Heavenly Fold, All the little ones, in grace There what holy song they learn, Ne’er to evil ways to turn. Half the soul-buds of the world Go to Heaven to be unfurled; In that Home where ne’er was heard Thought of sin or evil word. Baby’s bed is ready now. See the gladness light its brow. Softly tuck the velvet feet; Kiss the dimpled fingers sweet; Gently sing a lullaby, Till Love shuts its starry eye. Baby’s bed’s a sacred place, Free from every guile. E’en the weariest of earth Can but look and smile. Be not proud, the angels there Guard the precious one with care, And the light from Pearly Gates Shines across the bed, Where the shining angel waits At the cradle head. Sweetest vigils we will keep, Hush! the darling is asleep. endpaper divider |
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