O mother-my-love, if you'll give me your hand, <br /> And go where I ask you to wander, <br />I will lead you away to a beautiful land,-- <br /> The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder. <br />We'll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there, <br /> Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, <br />And the flowers and the birds are filling the air <br /> With the fragrance and music of dreaming. <br /> <br />There'll be no little tired-out boy to undress, <br /> No questions or cares to perplex you, <br />There'll be no little bruises or bumps to caress, <br /> Nor patching of stockings to vex you; <br />For I'll rock you away on a silver-dew stream <br /> And sing you asleep when you're weary, <br />And no one shall know of our beautiful dream <br /> But you and your own little dearie. <br /> <br />And when I am tired I'll nestle my head <br /> In the bosom that's soothed me so often, <br />And the wide-awake stars shall sing, in my stead, <br /> A song which our dreaming shall soften. <br />So, Mother-my-Love, let me take your dear hand, <br /> And away through the starlight we'll wander,-- <br />Away through the mist to the beautiful land,-- <br /> The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/child-and-mother/
