Shall I make a song for you,
Children dear,
Not too hard or long for you,
Just as clear
As your lives which opened so,
A while ago ?

How shall I find any word
Old or new,
That the wise earth has not heard
Ages through,
Ever since her ways grew sweet
With little feet?

How you bless my day and hour,
She can say,
As the sweet and spotless flower
Of her May
Lies in fullest bloom at rest,
Upon her breast.

All the happy service done,
Well she knows,
All the longing, and the one
Prayer that goes
Trembling through the unknown years,
For you my dears.

How I love you, she repeats,
How rejoice,
All my singing she completes,
For my voice,
Of the song in her great heart,
Is but a part.

Sleep, my little dearest one,
I will guard thy sleep,
Safely, little nearest one,
I will hold thee deep,
In the dark unfathomed sea
Where sweet dreams are made for thee.

Rest, my little baby dear,
I will watch thy rest,
Thou shalt feel the waters near
Only on my breast ;
In the strong and tender tide
Still my love shall be thy guide.

My little dear, so fast asleep,
Whose arms about me cling,
What kisses shall she have to keep
While she is slumbering ?

Upon her golden baby-hair
The golden dreams I'll kiss
Which Life spread through my morning fair,
And I have saved, for this.

Upon her baby eyes I'll press
The kiss Love gave to me,
When his great joy and loveliness
Made all things fair to see.

And on her lips with smiles astir,
Ah me, what prayer of old
May now be kissed to comfort her,
Should Love or Life grow cold.