Nursing

O hush, my little baby brother; Sleep, my love, upon my knee. What though, dear child, we've lost our mother; That can never trouble thee. You are but ten weeks old to-morrow; What can you know of our loss? The house is full enough of sorrow. Little baby, don't be cross. Peace, cry not so, my dearest love; Hush, my baby-bird, lie still.- He's quiet now, he does not move, Fast asleep is little Will. My only solace, only joy, Since the sad day I lost my mother, Is nursing her own Willy boy, My little orphan brother.