“A Widow’s Lullaby at Winter Quarters, 1846,” Ensign, July 1997, 42
A Widow’s Lullaby at Winter Quarters, 1846
Sleep, my little one—
Sleep while Mother dreams
Of your comely smile
And your small hands cupping my heart;
Of my completeness, holding you;
The happy burden of your trust;
My pride in your unfolding;
The wonders wished for you
Since our first touch.
Even here—
Here in this wind-whipped place,
This savage wilderness,
You have been my courage
And my star.
Sleep, my little one—
Sleep in your narrow bed
Under your coverlet of prairie sod
And stones gently piled …
Sleep, while Mother dreams
And weeps—
Walking the long, lonely miles ahead.3