BEDTIME

By Francis Robert Rosslyn

’T IS bedtime; say your hymn, and bid “Good-night;

God bless Mamma, Papa, and dear ones all.”

Your half-shut eyes beneath your eyelids fall,

Another minute, you will shut them quite.

Yes, I will carry you, put out the light,

And tuck you up, although you are so tall!

What will you give me, sleepy one, and call

My wages, if I settle you all right?

I laid her golden curls upon my arm,

I drew her little feet within my hand,

Her rosy palms were joined in trustful bliss,

Her heart next mine beat gently, soft and warm

She nestled to me, and, by Love’s command,

Paid me my precious wages—“Baby’s Kiss.”