HUSH YE, MY BAIRNIE
From the Gaelic.
Hush ye, my bairnie, my bonnie wee laddie;
When ye’re a man ye shall follow yer daddie;
Lift me a coo, and a goat, and a wether,
Bringing them hame tae yer mammie thegither.
Hush ye, my bairnie, my bonnie wee lammie;
Routh o’ guid things ye shall bring tae yer mammie;
Hare frae the meadow, and deer frae the mountain,
Grouse frae the muirlan’, and trout frae the fountain.
Hush ye, my bairnie, my bonnie wee dearie;
Sleep! come and close the een, heavie and wearie;
Closed are the wearie een, rest ye are takin’,
Soun’ be your sleepin’, and bright be yer wakin’.
THE WEE CROODLEN DOO
“Where hae ye been a’ the day,
My little wee croodlen doo?”
“Oh, I’ve been at my grandmother’s;
Mak my bed, mammie, noo!”
“What got ye at your grandmother’s,
My little wee croodlen doo?”
“I got a bonny wee fishie;
Mak my bed, mammie, noo!”
“Oh, where did she catch the fishie,
My bonny wee croodlen doo?”
“She catch’d it in the gutter hole;
Mak my bed, mammie, noo!”
“And what did you do wi’ the bones o’t,
My bonny wee croodlen doo?”
“I gied them to my little dog;
Mak my bed, mammie, noo!”
“And what did the little doggie do,
My little wee croodlen doo?”
“He stretched out his head, and his feet, and dee’d,
As I do, mammie, noo!”
Baby cry,
Wipe his eye.
Baby good,
Give him food.
Baby sleepy,
Go to bed.
Baby naughty,
Smack his head.
O, can ye sew cushions,
Can ye sew sheets,
Can ye sing Ba-loo-loo,
When the bairnie greets?
And hee and ba, birdie,
And hee and ba, lamb;
And hee and ba, birdie,
My bonnie lamb!
Hush, hush, hush, hush,
And I dance mine own child,
And I dance mine own child,
Hush, hush, hush, hush!
A DUTCH LULLABY
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew:
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
“We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!”
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old man laughed, and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring-fish
That lived in that beautiful sea;
“Now cast your nets wherever you wish,
Never afeared are we!”
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
’Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folk thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed,
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies,
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things,
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
O hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother a lady both gentle and bright;
The woods and the glens from the tow’rs which we see,
They are all belonging, dear babie, to thee.
O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows;
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
E’er the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
O hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum,
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
When little birdie bye-bye goes,
Quiet as mice in churches,
He puts his head where nobody knows,
And on one leg he perches.
When little baby bye-bye goes,
On mother’s arm reposing,
Soon he lies beneath the clothes,
Safe in cradle dozing.
When little pussy goes to sleep,
Tail and nose together,
Then little mice around her creep,
Lightly as a feather.
When little baby goes to sleep,
And he is very near us,
Then on tiptoe softly creep,
That baby may not hear us.
Dance a baby, diddy;
What can a mammy do wid ’e?
Sit in a lap, give it some pap,
And dance a baby, diddy.
Smile, my baby, bonny;
What will time bring on ’e?
Sorrow and care, frowns and grey hair,
So smile my baby, bonny.
Laugh, my baby, beauty;
What will time do to ’e?
Furrow your cheek, wrinkle your neck,
So laugh, my baby, beauty.
Dance, my baby, deary;
Mother will never be weary,
Frolic and play now while you may,
So dance, my baby, deary.
Baby, baby, naughty baby!
Hush, you squalling thing, I say!
Hush this moment, or it may be
Wellington will pass this way.
And he’ll beat you, beat you, beat you,
And he’ll beat you into pap;
And he’ll eat you, eat you, eat you,
Gobble you, gobble you, snap, snap, snap.
SOUTHERN INDIA
JÚwa, jÚwa, baby, dear!
When the baby’s mother comes
She will give her darling milk.
JÚwa, jÚwa, baby dear!
When the baby’s father comes
He will bring a cocoanut.
JÚwa, jÚwa, baby, dear!
When the baby’s brother comes
He will bring a little bird.
JÚwa, jÚwa, baby, dear!
When the baby’s sister comes
She will bring a dish of rice.
LULLABY
Sleep, baby, sleep,
Our cottage vale is deep;
The little lamb is on the green
With woolly fleece, so soft and clean.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep,
Down where the woodbines creep;
Be always like the lamb so mild,
A kind, and sweet, and gentle child.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
THE ANGEL’S WHISPER
A superstition prevails in Ireland, that when a child smiles in its sleep, it is “talking with the angels.”
A baby was sleeping,
Its mother was weeping,
For her husband was far o’er the wild raging sea,
And the tempest was swelling
Round the fisherman’s dwelling,
And she cried: “Dermot, darling, oh! come back to me.”
Her beads while she numbered,
The baby still slumbered,
And smiled in her face, as she bended her knee,
Oh! blessed be that warning,
My child, thy sleep adorning,
For I know that the angels are whisp’ring with thee.
And while they are keeping
Bright watch o’er thy sleeping,
Oh! pray to them softly, my baby, with me,
And say thou would’st rather
They’d watch o’er thy father!
For I know that the angels are whisp’ring with thee.
The dawn of the morning
Saw Dermot returning,
And the wife wept with joy her babe’s father to see,
And closely caressing
Her child with a blessing,
Said: “I knew that the angels were whisp’ring with thee.”
LULLABY
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy father watches the sheep,
Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,
And down falls a little dream on thee.
Sleep, baby sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
The large stars are the sheep,
The little stars are the lambs, I guess,
The fair moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
And cry not like a sheep,
Else will the sheep dog bark and whine,
And bite this naughty child of mine.
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Away! and tend the sheep,
Away, thou black dog, fierce and wild,
And do not wake my little child!
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Hark! the night-winds whispering nigh,
“Hush,” they murmur, “hush-a-bye!”
Dobbin by the dyke doth drowse,
Dreamy kine forget to browse,
Winking stars are in the sky;
“Hush-a-bye! hush-a-bye!”
See, the silver moon is high;
How the great trees rock and sigh.
“Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye!”
Low the little brooklet’s cry;
“Hush,” it lispeth, “hush-a-bye!”
All the peeping lights are gone,
Baby, we are left alone!
“Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye.”
