May the robin follow you to sleep,
nuzzling the bruises with her breast,
like the mother’s memory I keep.

Keep her safe and sacred from the sheep,
never stain her reddish orange crest,
may the robin follow you to sleep.

Early, when the apple blossoms weep,
bring her here, and thank her for the rest,
like the mother’s memory I keep.

Don’t you fret, or let the dewdrops seep,
or she cannot fly with all the best,
may the robin follow you to sleep.

If the angel’s raving makes a peep,
call to Early morning in her nest,
like the mother’s memory I keep.

Nothing here can harm you, bosom deep,
life’s a game, you’ll know, and pain’s a test,
may the robin follow you to sleep
like the mother’s memory I keep.