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" TO A DYING INFANT. SLEEP, little baby ! Sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed, Not on thy mother's breast Henceforth shall be thy rest, But with the quiet dead. Yes — with the quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be ! Oh ! many a weary wight, Weary of life and... "
Brief memoirs of remarkable children, collected by a clergyman of the Church ... - Side 117
av Brief memoirs - 1822
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The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine, Volum 11

Charles Fenno Hoffman, Timothy Flint, Lewis Gaylord Clark, Kinahan Cornwallis, John Holmes Agnew - 1838 - 590 sider
...in thy cradle '*1, Not on thy mutbcr'i breait Henceforth ihallbethlr ml. Rnt with the quiet desd.' YES ! — with the quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be : Oh! many R weary wight, Weary of life nod' light, Would faiu lie dowD with thee. Flee, little tender nursling...
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Solitary Hours

Caroline Anne Southey - 1839 - 256 sider
...Her welcome, whose approaching doom We blindly thought — a foreign tomb ! TO A DYING INFANT. SUEEP, little Baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed, Not on...thee ! Flee, little tender nursling ! Flee to thy grassy nest — There the first flowers shall blow, The first pure flake of snow Shall fall upon thy...
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The United States Magazine and Democratic Review, Volum 6

1839 - 558 sider
...June 30th, to which day the subsequent statements are made in each fiscal year. TO A DYING INFANT.* Sleep, little Baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed,...quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be. Oh ! many a weary heart, Weary of life's dull part, Would fain lie down with thce. Flee, little tender nursling ! Flee...
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The United States Democratic Review, Volum 6

1839 - 546 sider
...June 80th, to which day the subsequent statements are made in each fiscal year. TO A DYING INFANT.' Sleep, little Baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed,...quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be. Oh ! many a weary heart, Weary of life's dull part, Would fain lie down with thee. Flee, little tender nursling ! Flee...
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Childhood, a selection from the poets, by H.M.R.

Childhood - 1841 - 384 sider
...misery— My hope in age—my gifted son, Would I had died with thee! TO A DYING INFANT. MISS BOWLES. SLEEP, little baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed,...with thee. Flee, little tender nursling! Flee to thy grassy nest; There the first flowers shall blow, The first pure flake of snow Peace ! peace! the little...
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An Offering of Sympathy to the Afflicted: Especially to Parents Bereaved of ...

Francis Parkman - 1842 - 298 sider
...which binds you to the higher distinction of your being. Enfant* SLEEP, little baby! sleep! Not in the cradle bed, Not on thy mother's breast Henceforth shall be thy rest, But with the quiet dead. I *vo seen thee in thy beauty, A thing all health and glee ; But never then wert thou So beautiful...
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The Mourner's Chaplet: An Offering of Sympathy for Bereaved Friends ...

John Keese - 1844 - 140 sider
...— Gone ere a sin thy life's pure page could blot TO A DYING INFANT. SLBEP, little baby ! sleep 1 Not in thy cradle bed, Not on thy mother's breast...quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be. Oh ! many a weary heart, Weary of life's dull part, Would fain lie down with theo. Flee, little tender nursling! Flee...
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The Mourner Comforted: Containing the Cypress Wreath

1844 - 298 sider
...Though it be selfish to lament thy lotGone ere a sin thy life's pure page could blot. TO A DYING INFANT. SLEEP, little baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed,...Not on thy mother's breast Henceforth shall be thy real, But with the quiet dead, Yea— with the quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be. Oh ! many a weary...
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The Children's Magazine and Missionary Repository, Volum 8

1845 - 492 sider
...beclouded the vision, Nor suffer'd the loved ones to whisper, "Farewell." DI 323 TO A DYING INFANT. SLEEP, little baby sleep'. Not in thy cradle bed,...mother's breast Henceforth shall be thy rest, But quiet with the dead. Yes! with the quiet dead, Baby thy rest shall be; Oh, many a weary wight, Weary...
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Solitary Hours

Caroline Bowles Southey - 1846 - 176 sider
...bells, Her welcome, whose approaching doom We blindly thought — a foreign tomb ! TO A DYING INFANT. SLEEP, little Baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed,...Weary of life and light, Would fain lie down with thee I Flee, little tender nursling ! Flee to thy grassy nest — There the first flowers shall blow, The...
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