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200 FOLK-SONGS OF LOWER BRITTANY.
vulgarity of thought is as rare as immoral suggestion, even in the rude satires and humorous narratives.
The beginning of all folk-song is in the cooing melodies which the mothers chant by the inspiration of nature by the cradles of their drowsing infants, and in which the affections of their hearts take an articulate form as naturally as the songs of birds. The berceuses, or cradle songs, of the Breton peasantry have all the elements of deep feeling and childish simplicity of expression which characterize the voice of motherhood in every clime and every station in life, and unite the queen and the peasant in a common bond. The same lovely and touching images suggest themselves, and the same simple and soothing melody flows naturally from the lips. This Breton cradle song might find its parallel in thought and language in many
Toutouie la, la, my little child, Toutouie la, la.
Your mother is here, my little child, To rock you softly, little dear.
Your mother is here, my little lamb, She will sing you a little song.
The other day she wept sorely ; Now she smiles, the little mother.