Sleep, sleep, mother, sleep, Sweetly sleep, sleep, sleep; On His bosom lay your head, While the angels watch your bed, And the August stars are red— Little mother of joy divine, Little mother of purity, Sweet mother of eternity— (You our mother and He our Brother); So shall heaven’s windows shine With lights of home, burning softly down, On your children on their way To your door—until the day When we reach our native town: And our hands shall knock, and yours unlatch, And we shall come home to you under the thatch— To you our mother, to Him our Brother, So shall we love you and Him and each other. Little mother of joy divine, From your window in heaven look down, And light the way to our native town. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Saints in Sussex, by Sheila Kaye-Smith