ITALY. ITTLE son, now sleep ; Sleep, my curly-head, Lovely son, rose-red ! Mother’s very heart, Flame of her life, thou art! Baby, tiny one, Lullaby, now hushaby, my son ! Hush thee, baby, there | Babe most sweet and fair, Hush ! lie still, nor move! O my babe, my dove, Little wingéd love! Baby, tiny one, Hushaby, now lullaby, my son ! 95