LESSON 40
GOOD-NIGHT

LITTLE baby, lay your head

On your pretty cradle-bed;

Shut your eyes, for now the day

And the light are gone away;

All the clothes are tucked in tight, —

Little baby dear, good-night.

Yes, my darling, well I know

How the bitter wind doth blow;

And the winter’s snow and rain

Patter on the window pane:

But they cannot come in here,

To my little baby dear.

For the window is shut fast,

Till the stormy night is past;

And the curtains warm are spread

Round about your cradle-bed:

So, till morning shineth bright,

Little baby dear, good-night.

THE MOMENTS

THE moments fly, —a minute’s gone;

The minutes fly, —an hour is run;

The day is fled, —the night is here;

Thus flies a week, —a month, —a year! u+NTf0hqWg/uzuqPZtJxAJGgDQxma9EpBDBPvGTzKbVcfTUnuH8XKB79vOrzhzGu