LULLABY! OH, LULLABY!

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2746, 26 February 1910, Page 4 (Supplement)

LULLABY! OH, LULLABY!

The writer of the following very popular haby .song was William Cox Bennett, originally a watchmaker at Greenv/ioli, where be was bom in 1820. He afterwards became a journalist and wrote manv songs and sketches, dying in 1895.

Lullaby! 0 lullaby! Baby hush that little cry! Light is dying, Bats are flying, Bees to-day with work have done; So, till conics the morrow’s sun, Let sleep kiss those bright eyes dry! Lullaby! 0 lullaby.

Lullarjy'! 0 lullaby! Hush’d are all tilings far and nigh ; Flowers are closing, Birds reposing. All thinge sweet with life are done. Sieep till dawns the morning sun, Sleep then kiss those blue eyes dry, ' Lullaby ! 0 lullaby.

TO A BUTTERFLY. The groat poet William Wordsworth, ill these pretty verses to a butterfly, gives us the proper point of view irom which we ought to regard one of the loveliest of all things. We can hardly read this poem, entering into the loving spirit of the poet, and then go chasing butterflies..

I’ve watch’d you now a full half-hour, Seif-poised upon that yellow flower; And, little Butterfly! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! not frozen seasMore motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Has fouqel you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!. This plot of orchard ground' is ours; My trees they are, my sister’s flowersHere rest your wings when, you are weary, Here lodge, as in a sanctuary L Como often‘to us, fear no wTong; Sit near us on the bough! We’ll talk of sunshine and of song. And summer days when we wore young; Sweet childish days that were as long As twentv days are now.