 | Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan |  |
41
THE FAIRY BABE.
(A LULLABY.)
Between the night and the grey morning,
When lights are out and the crickets sing,
The fairies stole my bud and my blossom
And laid this wizened thing in my bosom.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Dream of the fields and the sheep,
But never a sorrowful dream may take you
Of the mother that could forsake you.
Hush, O!
When lights are out and the crickets sing,
The fairies stole my bud and my blossom
And laid this wizened thing in my bosom.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Dream of the fields and the sheep,
But never a sorrowful dream may take you
Of the mother that could forsake you.
Hush, O!
My little boy was rosy and sweet,
I kissed him over from head to feet;
But cold hands came in the midnight lonely
And drew him off, O my one child only.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Sleep while I wake and weep,
For it may be my little son misses
The mother's milk and the love and kisses.
Hush, O!
I kissed him over from head to feet;
But cold hands came in the midnight lonely
And drew him off, O my one child only.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Sleep while I wake and weep,
For it may be my little son misses
The mother's milk and the love and kisses.
Hush, O!
42
The fairy-woman, with magic skill,
Came full of charms to work you ill;
I stood up in a sudden anger
And caught you into my breast from danger.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
All that I have to keep;
For on your face that is pinched and weary
I saw a look of my own, own dearie.
Hush, O!
Came full of charms to work you ill;
I stood up in a sudden anger
And caught you into my breast from danger.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
All that I have to keep;
For on your face that is pinched and weary
I saw a look of my own, own dearie.
Hush, O!
My boy that went in the wild morning
Shall wear a crown and a gay gold ring,
Shall ride a splendid horse when he's older,
With cloak of velvet upon his shoulder.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Stars are beginning to peep,
And may your mother my wee son cherish
That so he go not milkless and perish
Hush, O!
Shall wear a crown and a gay gold ring,
Shall ride a splendid horse when he's older,
With cloak of velvet upon his shoulder.
Hush, O!
Sleep, little fairy, sleep,
Stars are beginning to peep,
And may your mother my wee son cherish
That so he go not milkless and perish
Hush, O!
| Ballads and Lyrics by Katharine Tynan | |