The Price

The PriceBy Winona Douglas(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)

By Winona Douglas

(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)

Sleep, little dream child, in mother’s arms;Cuddle yet closer and take your rest,Eyelids now hiding the blue eyes since laughing,Laughing in glee here on mother’s breast.Dear are the moments with you I am spending;Toil is forgotten in comfort and calm.Together we are, wee one, in the gloaming,Evening blessed,—my babe’s coo is a psalm.—You were my dream child, and I must awaken,My arms are empty, sweet babe unborn,For me the lone quiet, while night is fast darkening;Darkening now, and there’s toil on the morn.The days come and go, toil is ever supreme;Motherhood smother, the thought is vain.Forget it, indeed, for wheels must be turning,Turning incessantly—more wealth to gain!

Sleep, little dream child, in mother’s arms;Cuddle yet closer and take your rest,Eyelids now hiding the blue eyes since laughing,Laughing in glee here on mother’s breast.Dear are the moments with you I am spending;Toil is forgotten in comfort and calm.Together we are, wee one, in the gloaming,Evening blessed,—my babe’s coo is a psalm.—You were my dream child, and I must awaken,My arms are empty, sweet babe unborn,For me the lone quiet, while night is fast darkening;Darkening now, and there’s toil on the morn.The days come and go, toil is ever supreme;Motherhood smother, the thought is vain.Forget it, indeed, for wheels must be turning,Turning incessantly—more wealth to gain!

Sleep, little dream child, in mother’s arms;Cuddle yet closer and take your rest,Eyelids now hiding the blue eyes since laughing,Laughing in glee here on mother’s breast.

Sleep, little dream child, in mother’s arms;

Cuddle yet closer and take your rest,

Eyelids now hiding the blue eyes since laughing,

Laughing in glee here on mother’s breast.

Dear are the moments with you I am spending;Toil is forgotten in comfort and calm.Together we are, wee one, in the gloaming,Evening blessed,—my babe’s coo is a psalm.—

Dear are the moments with you I am spending;

Toil is forgotten in comfort and calm.

Together we are, wee one, in the gloaming,

Evening blessed,—my babe’s coo is a psalm.—

You were my dream child, and I must awaken,My arms are empty, sweet babe unborn,For me the lone quiet, while night is fast darkening;Darkening now, and there’s toil on the morn.

You were my dream child, and I must awaken,

My arms are empty, sweet babe unborn,

For me the lone quiet, while night is fast darkening;

Darkening now, and there’s toil on the morn.

The days come and go, toil is ever supreme;Motherhood smother, the thought is vain.Forget it, indeed, for wheels must be turning,Turning incessantly—more wealth to gain!

The days come and go, toil is ever supreme;

Motherhood smother, the thought is vain.

Forget it, indeed, for wheels must be turning,

Turning incessantly—more wealth to gain!


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