Poem by Horace Smith

Lullaby

Sleep, little baby, sleep, love, sleep!
  Evening is coming, and night is nigh;
Under the lattice the little birds cheep,
  All will be sleeping by and by.
      Sleep, little baby, sleep.

Sleep, little baby, sleep, love, sleep!
  Darkness is creeping along the sky;
Stars at the casement glimmer and peep,
  Slowly the moon comes sailing by.
      Sleep, little baby, sleep.

Sleep, little baby, sleep, love, sleep!
  Sleep till the dawning has dappled the sky;
Under the lattice the little birds cheep,
  All will be waking by and by.
      Sleep, little baby, sleep.

1. Address to the Orange-tree at Versailles
2. Why Are They Shut?
3. To the Rev. A. A. in the Country from His Friend in London
4. Written in the Porch of Binstead Church, Isle of Wight
5. Campbell’s Funeral

Richard Rowlands Lullaby ("UPON my lap my sovereign sits")

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