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Eugene Field - Child And Mother
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O mother-my-love, if you`ll give me your hand,
  And go where I ask you to wander,
I will lead you away to a beautiful land,—
  The Dreamland that`s waiting out yonder.
We`ll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there,
  Where moonlight and starlight are streaming,
And the flowers and the birds are filling the air
  With the fragrance and music of dreaming.

There`ll be no little tired-out boy to undress,
  No questions or cares to perplex you,
There`ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,
  Nor patching of stockings to vex you;
For I`ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream
  And sing you asleep when you`re weary,
And no one shall know of our beautiful dream
  But you and your own little dearie.

And when I am tired I`ll nestle my head
  In the bosom that`s soothed me so often,
And the wide-awake stars shall sing, in my stead,
  A song which our dreaming shall soften.
So, Mother-my-Love, let me take your dear hand,
  And away through the starlight we`ll wander,—
Away through the mist to the beautiful land,—
  The Dreamland that`s waiting out yonder.
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