Mother Love
Lie still, dear birdie,
In cradle nest;
The gentle breeze rocketh thee
Softly to rest.
Thy father is singing thee
Sweetly to sleep,
While thy mother her little ones
Safely doth keep.
Sleep peacefully, Baby,
The Spring's come to you;
The grass is a carpet
Of violets blue;
The birds are all singing thee
Softly to rest;
But the love of a mother
Is sweetest and best.
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