Bed-Time

'Tis bed-time; say your hymn, and bid "Good night,

God bless mamma, papa, and dear ones all."

Your half-shut eyes beneath your eye-lids fall;

Another minute you will shut them quite.

Yes, I will carry you, put out the light,

And tuck you up, although you are so tall.

What will you give me, Sleepy One, and call

My wages, if I settle you all right?

I laid her golden curls upon my arm,

I drew her little feet within my hand;

Her rosy palms were joined in trustful bliss,

Her heart next mine, beat gently, soft and warm;

She nestled to me, and, by Love's command,

Paid me my precious wages,—Baby's kiss.