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Canadian
Born
by
Emily Pauline Johnson
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Lullaby
of the Iroquois
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Little
brown baby-bird, lapped in your nest,
Wrapped
in your nest,
Strapped
in your nest,
Your straight little cradle-board rocks you to rest;
Its
hands are your nest,
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Its
bands are your nest;
It swings from the down-bending branch of the oak;
You watch the camp flame, and the curling gray smoke;
But, oh, for your pretty black eyes sleep is best,—
Little brown baby of mine, go to rest.
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Little brown baby-bird swinging to sleep,
Winging
to sleep,
Singing
to sleep,
Your wonder-black eyes that so wide open keep, [Page
16]
Shielding
their sleep,
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Unyielding
to sleep,
The heron is homing, the plover is still,
The night-owl calls from his haunt on the hill,
Afar the fox barks, afar the stars peep,—
Little brown baby of mine, go to sleep.
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