The Southern Literary Messenger, Volume I., 1834-35

My Daughter's Lullaby.

Tune—"The Sunset Tree."

Come! Come! Come!
Come to thy Mother's breast!
The day begins to close:
And the bright, but fading west
Invites thee to repose.
The frolic and the fun
Of thy childish sports are o'er:
But, with to-morrow's sun,
To be renewed once more.

Come! Come! Come!
Come to thy Mother's breast!
The day begins to close:
And the bright, but fading west
Invites thee to repose.

Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!
Sweet on thy Mother's knee!
To con thine evening prayer,
To him who watches thee
With a Father's tender care.
For parents and for friends
Then breathe thy simple vow;
And when life's evening ends,
Be innocent as now.

Come! Come! Come!
Come to thy Mother's breast!
The day begins to close:
And the darkening of the west
Invites thee to repose.

Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
Sleep till the morning beams!
My song is in thine ear,
To mingle with thy dreams,
And to tell thee I am near.
Bright be thy dreams, my child!
Bright as thy waking eyes,
As the morning beaming mild,
Or the hope that never dies.

Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
Sleep on thy Mother's breast!
Thine eyes begin to close;
And she that loves thee best
Has lulled thee to repose.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

Troy, June, 1835.

MR. WHITE,—The very polite invitation received in yours of February 11th, (the more valuable because it in part originates with Mr. R.) to contribute to your well conducted, entertaining and instructive periodical, would have been sooner answered, but that I was desirous to write something specially intended for the Messenger. But owing to my having a work (Universal History in Perspective) now in the press, the manuscript of which is not yet quite finished, I am obliged to devote every leisure moment in that direction. Unwilling, however, not to respond to the Virginian politeness which dictated your letter, I have sent you, from my port-folio, some little poems which have not been published.

The Messenger, as I have learned from some of our gentlemen who frequent the reading room, is highly spoken of here. Accept my grateful acknowledgment of your favor, in sending it to me.

Respectfully, yours,

EMMA WILLARD.