Bye, O my baby! When I was a lady O then my poor baby didn't cry; But my baby is weeping For want of good keeping; Oh! I fear my poor baby will die! --which may have been composed to fit in with some particular story, as was the tearful little song occurring in the ballad of Childe Waters: She said: Lullabye, mine own dear child, Lullabye, my child so dear; I would thy father were a king, Thy mother laid on a bier. One feels glad that that story ends happily in a "churching and bridal" that take place upon the same day. I have the copy of a lullaby for a sick child, written down from memory by Signor Lerda, of Turin, who reports it to be popular in Tuscany: Sleep, dear child, as mother bids: If thou sleep thou shalt not die! Sleep, and death shall pass thee by. Close worn eyes and aching lids, Yield to soft forgetfulness; Let sweet sleep thy senses press: Child, on whom my love doth dwell, Sleep, sleep, and thou shalt be well. See, I strew thee, soft and light, Bed of down that cannot pain; Linen sheets have o'er it lain More than snow new-fallen white. Perfume sweet, health-giving scent, The meadows' pride, is o'er it sprent: Sleep, dear son, a little spell, Sleep, sleep, and thou shalt be well. Change thy side and rest thee there, Beauty! love! turn on thy side, O my son, thou dost not bide As of yore, so fresh and fair. Sickness mars thee with its spite, Cruel sickness changes quite; How, alas! its traces tell! Yet sleep, and thou shalt be well. Sleep, thy mother's kisses poured On her darling son. Repose; God give end to all our woes. Sleep, and wake by sleep restored, Pangs that make thee faint shall fly! Sleep, my child, and lullaby! Sleep, and fears of death dispel; Sleep, sleep, and thou shalt be well. "Se tu dormi, non morrai!" In how many tongues are not these words spoken every day by trembling lips, whilst the heart seems to stand still, whilst the eyes dare not weep, for tears would mean the victory of hope or fear; whilst the watcher leans expectant over the beloved little wasted form, conscious that all that can be done has been done, that all that care or skill can try has been tried, that there are no other remedies to fall back upon, that there is no more strength left for battle, and that now, even in this very hour, sleep or his brother death will decide the issue.