THE BABY

HERE did you come from, baby dear?

WHERE

Out of the everywhere into the here.

Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?

I found it waiting when I got here.

What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose ? Something better than any one knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?

Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get that pearly ear?

God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? From the same box as the cherub's wings.

How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.

But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought of you, and so I am here.
-George Macdonald.

H

笛

OLD GAELIC LULLABY

USH! the waves are rolling in,

White with foam, white with foam;

Father toils amid the din;

But baby sleeps at home.

Hush the winds roar hoarse and deep-
On they come, on they come!
Brother seeks the wandering sheep;
But baby sleeps at home.

Hush the rain sweeps o'er the knowes,
Where they roam, where they roam;

Sister goes to seek the cows;

But baby sleeps at home.

WHERE SHALL THE BABY'S DIMPLES BE?

Ο

VER the cradle a mother hung,

Softly cooing a slumber song;

And these were the simple words she sung

All the even long:

Vol. I

"Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee, Where shall the baby's dimple be?

Where shall the angel's finger rest

When he comes down to the baby's nest?
Where shall the angel's touch remain
When he awakens my babe again?"

Still as she bent and sang so low,

A murmur into her music broke;

And she paused to hear, for she could but know The baby's angel spoke :

"Cheek or chin, knuckle or knee,
Where shall the baby's dimple be?

Where shall my finger fall and rest
When I come down to the baby's nest?
Where shall my finger's touch remain
When I awaken your babe again?"

Silent the mother sat, and dwelt

Long in the sweet delay of choice; And then by the baby's side she knelt, And sang with pleasant voice:

"Not on the limb, O angel dear,

For the charm with its youth will disappear;
Not on the cheek shall the dimple be,
For the harboring smile will fade and flee;
But touch thou the chin with an impress deep,
And my baby the angel's seal shall keep."

-7. G. Holland