The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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| II. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
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| XVI. |
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A CRADLE SONG |
 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
A CRADLE SONG
Sleep, my son, my baby sleep,
Mother watches by thy bed;
Be thy slumbers sound and deep,
Softly rock the cradle head.
Mother watches by thy bed;
Be thy slumbers sound and deep,
Softly rock the cradle head.
As I watch thy dreaming face,
I picture from thy tender span
How this rosy infant grace
Will harden to the perfect man.
I picture from thy tender span
How this rosy infant grace
Will harden to the perfect man.
I pray that heaven may send thee, dear,
The treasure of a loving wife,
The glory of a grand career,
The honour of a blameless life.
The treasure of a loving wife,
The glory of a grand career,
The honour of a blameless life.
Thou shalt be a warrior good,
Strong of arm and keen of eye,
To the ruler of thy blood
Faithful to thy latest sigh.
Strong of arm and keen of eye,
To the ruler of thy blood
Faithful to thy latest sigh.
Thou shalt ride a gallant steed,
On thy shield the sun-ray glows,
As thy broadsword, good at need,
Deals around triumphant blows.
On thy shield the sun-ray glows,
As thy broadsword, good at need,
Deals around triumphant blows.
443
Or in senate thou art great,
Wise in tongue and cool in brain,—
A prop and pillar of the state,
In thy monarch's council-train.
Wise in tongue and cool in brain,—
A prop and pillar of the state,
In thy monarch's council-train.
Thine shall be the potent word
To bid the fretful factions cease;
As, binding olive round the sword,
Thy hand revives the plenteous peace.
To bid the fretful factions cease;
As, binding olive round the sword,
Thy hand revives the plenteous peace.
Guide of the wise, the true man's trust,
Captain and statist, loyal friend,
Thou wilt not let the silence rust
Thy fame, nor falter to the end.
Captain and statist, loyal friend,
Thou wilt not let the silence rust
Thy fame, nor falter to the end.
I see thee bowed in honoured age,
With children's children at thy knee;
And thy renown a golden page
In the land's happy history.
With children's children at thy knee;
And thy renown a golden page
In the land's happy history.
I see, my son, thy crescent ray
Hereafter in the distant years,
When my warm mother-heart is clay,
And silence seals my hopes and fears.
Hereafter in the distant years,
When my warm mother-heart is clay,
And silence seals my hopes and fears.
'Twill be my sole and great reward
To have born a hero to my race:
Nor in this solace is it hard
To sleep below the daisy's face.
To have born a hero to my race:
Nor in this solace is it hard
To sleep below the daisy's face.
My vision ends: my darling wakes;
I kiss to calm his wakeful wails.
Beyond the hill the morning breaks,
The waning taper flickering fails.
I kiss to calm his wakeful wails.
Beyond the hill the morning breaks,
The waning taper flickering fails.
The noise of birds is just begun,
And mingles with the cradle cry—
O grant me, Heaven, my infant son
May nobly live and nobly die!
And mingles with the cradle cry—
O grant me, Heaven, my infant son
May nobly live and nobly die!
August 19th, 1895.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |