Cradle Song (2) Poem by Raphael Patkanian

Mother

SWEET slumber now creeps o’er thee slow,
Sweet breezes rock thee to and fro:
My baby sleeps, so soft and low
With sweetest songs I'll sing oror.


Baby

O Mother dear, thou art unkind
My sleepless eyes so long to bind.
Anon I'll rest, and sleep resigned;--
Release me now, sing not oror.


Mother

Why dost thou shed those tears that flow
Down thy sad cheeks with pearly glow '
Thou’lt break thy heart with sobbing so,--
Whom wilt thou have to sing oror?


Baby

At least my hands and feet unbind--
My tender limbs are all confined;
That gentle sleep my eyes may find,
Then tie me in, and sing oror.


Mother

That tongue of thine is passing sweet,
Yet with thy yards I cannot mete.
Thou wilt not sleep, but at thy feet
Wouldst have me sit, and sing oror.


Baby

All piteously I raise my prayer,
I sob and cry, thou dost not hear.
Thy sweet voice seems to charm thine ear--
I weep, thou singest still oror.


Mother

Hush, hush, and sleep, my baby dear.
My love shall guard thee, year by year,
Until my rose-tree blossoms fair,
Then ’neath his shade I'll sing oror.


Baby

Thy heart is made of stone, I see.
I wept and wept, all uselessly.
Now I shall sleep, I can't be free,
All night, all night sing me oror!