 | Short poems for short people |  |
88
A CRADLE SONG.
O slumber, my darling; the white star is beaming
From pale yellow dusk in the west.
O slumber, my darling; with beautiful dreaming
Its gleaming shall dower thy rest.
From pale yellow dusk in the west.
O slumber, my darling; with beautiful dreaming
Its gleaming shall dower thy rest.
O slumber, my darling; the white star is glowing
Leagues out on the shadowy sea,
And if the wild winds there be drearily blowing
The knowing is not unto me.
Leagues out on the shadowy sea,
And if the wild winds there be drearily blowing
The knowing is not unto me.
O slumber, my darling; the white star in pillows
Of purple-hued cloud sinks to sleep!
This gale that is tossing the poor faded willows,
Wakes billows afar on the deep!
Of purple-hued cloud sinks to sleep!
This gale that is tossing the poor faded willows,
Wakes billows afar on the deep!
O slumber, my darling; the white star is dying,
The gold Autumn gloaming is dim;
My thoughts to thy mariner-father are flying,
And, sighing, I fear me for him.
The gold Autumn gloaming is dim;
My thoughts to thy mariner-father are flying,
And, sighing, I fear me for him.
O slumber, my darling; the white star is beaming
No longer, and vague is the light.
Perhaps where the grave of thy father is gleaming,
Are screaming the sea-gulls to-night.
No longer, and vague is the light.
Perhaps where the grave of thy father is gleaming,
Are screaming the sea-gulls to-night.
| Short poems for short people | |