Hush thee, my baby. Thy mother's o'er the mountains gone, There she will dig the little garden-patch, And water she'll fetch from the river. Ah! hush thee, my baby, Thy mother's o'er the mountains gone, There she will dig the little garden-patch, And wood she will bring from the forest. Hush thee, my baby! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN FAITH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS |