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 't was 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.

Eugene Field

AULD DADDY DARKNESS

AULD Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole,
Black as a blackamoor, blin' as a mole:
Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie

See him in the corners hidin' frae the licht, See him at the window gloomin' at the nicht;

Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a', An' Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa'.

Awa' to hide the birdie within its cosy nest, Awa' to lap the wee flooers on their mither's breast,

Awa' to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca', For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a'.

He comes when we're weary to wean's frae oor waes,

He comes when the bairnies are getting off their claes;

To cover them sae cosy, an' bring bonnie dreams,

So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he

seems.

Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye'll see Daddy then;

He's in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he's fain;

Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer

fill,

Till Wee Davie Daylicht comes keekin' owre

the hill.

James Ferguson

MOTHER-SONG

(From "Prince Lucifer")

WHITE little hands!
Pink little feet!

Dimpled all over,

Sweet, sweet, sweet!

What dost thou wail for?

The unknown? the unseen?

The ills that are coming,

The joys that have been?

Cling to me closer,

Closer and closer,

Till the pain that is purer

Hath banished the grosser.

Drain, drain at the stream, love,

Thy hunger is freeing,

That was born in a dream, love,
Along with thy being!

Little fingers that feel

For their home on my breast,
Little lips that appeal

For their nurture, their rest!
Why, why dost thou weep, dear?
Nay, stifle thy cries,

Till the dew of thy sleep, dear,

Lies soft on thine eyes.

Alfred Austin

SEPHESTIA'S LULLABY

(From "Menaphon")

WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; When thou art old there's grief enough for

thee.

Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe;
Fortune changed made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,

Last his sorrow, first his joy.

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.

Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl-drops from a flint,

Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies;
Thus he grieved in every part,
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,

Father's sorrow, father's joy.

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my

knee;

When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.

The wanton smiled, father wept,
Mother cried, baby leapt;

More he crowed, more we cried,
Nature could not sorrow hide :

He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss,
For he left his pretty boy,

Father's sorrow, father's joy.

Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When thou art old there's grief enough for

thee.

Robert Greene

CRADLE SONG

SLEEP, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in the joys of night;

Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep

Little sorrows sit and weep.