Rest, my babe, rest! Under the pale stars dim clouds are rifting, Over the long trees breezes are lifting; Oh, baby, baby, babe of mine, Hush now to slumber, heart divine! Though fears assail, though griefs betide, Yet God's dear arms are very wide, And mother's love is thine; So rest, my baby, rest! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I RISE UP by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE COTTON CLUB by CLARENCE MAJOR IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EPILOGUE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OCTAVES: 15 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SANDHILL PEOPLE by CARL SANDBURG |