BABY'S dying,
Do not stir —
Let her spirit lightly float
Through the sighing
Lips of her —
Still the murmur in the throat;
Let the moan of grief be curbed —
Baby must not be disturbed!

Baby's dying,
Do not stir —
Let her pure life lightly swim
Through the sighing
Lips of her —
Out from us and up to Him —
Let her leave us with that smile —
Kiss and miss her after while.