Poem by George MacDonald

Going to Sleep

Little one, you must not fret
That I take your clothes away;
Better sleep you so will get,
And at morning wake more gay-
Saith the children's mother.

You I must unclothe again,
For you need a better dress;
Too much worn are body and brain;
You need everlastingness-
Saith the heavenly father.

I went down death's lonely stair;
Laid my garments in the tomb;
Dressed again one morning fair;
Hastened up, and hied me home-
Saith the elder brother.

Then I will not be afraid
Any ill can come to me;
When 'tis time to go to bed,
I will rise and go with thee-
Saith the little brother. 

1. Mary Magdalene
2. The Auld Fisher
3. On the Source of the Arve
4. The Women who Ministered unto Him
5. Song of the Waiting Dead

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