Shut that little eye oh!
Tuck that little drowsy head into its little nest.
Baby go to bye oh!
Of all the pleasant things I know, sure slumber is the best.
Where’s the yellow day oh?
Gone to sleep upon its rosy pillows in the west.
Baby knows the way oh!
That leads along a dreamy path into a land of rest.
Mother still is nigh oh!
Mother’s song is just a prayer to Heaven’s high gate addressed.
May God hear her cry oh!
And keep the little soul for ever innocent and blest.
Agnes L. Storrie. Poems, J. W. Kettlewell, Sydney, 1909, pages 102-103