Little baby, lay your head
On your pretty cradle-bed;
Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tucked in tight;
Little baby dear, good night.
Yes, my darling, well I know
How the bitter wind doth blow;
And the winter's snow and rain
Patter on the window-pane:
But they cannot come in here,
To my little baby dear;
For the window shutteth fast,
Till the stormy night is past;
And the curtains warm are spread
Round about her cradle-bed:
So till morning shineth bright,
Little baby dear, good night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderfully endearing poem, all the small touches, which love and care bestow upon the dearly loved baby; in preparation for a warm snug night's sleep, despite 'the bitter wind doth blow; And the winter's snow and rain outside; baby will sleep snug tucked in tight, to a warm bed with 'curtains warm are spread Round about her cradle-bed: ' therefore we are assured all will be well 'till morning shineth bright, ' and we part baby and the poem with a comforting 'Little baby dear, good night.'