Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/209
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Lullaby.
173
Down beside the river flowing,
Where the broom and flax are growing,
Little breezes whisper gently, as night’s music softly swells;
And like bells of Elfin pealing,
Lonely through the shadows stealing,
Tinkling, tinkling through the twilight comes the sound of cattle bells.
Sleep, then, sleep, my little daughter,
Cattle bells, and wind, and water,
Weaving, weaving chains of slumber, cast about thee Dreamland’s spells.
Where the broom and flax are growing,
Little breezes whisper gently, as night’s music softly swells;
And like bells of Elfin pealing,
Lonely through the shadows stealing,
Tinkling, tinkling through the twilight comes the sound of cattle bells.
Sleep, then, sleep, my little daughter,
Cattle bells, and wind, and water,
Weaving, weaving chains of slumber, cast about thee Dreamland’s spells.
Mary H. Poynter.
CXI.
Lullaby.
Day has fled to the west afar,
Where no shadows or sorrows are;
O’er earth’s radiant western rim
God has gathered the day to him.
Hush! the river of night is here,
Flowing silently, cool and clear,
With its mystical thoughts that throng
And its silences deep as song.
Where no shadows or sorrows are;
O’er earth’s radiant western rim
God has gathered the day to him.
Hush! the river of night is here,
Flowing silently, cool and clear,
With its mystical thoughts that throng
And its silences deep as song.
Babe of my bosom, sleep;
Tender, sweet blossom, sleep!
Hearts may ache
While the long hours go creeping
Hearts may break
Tender, sweet blossom, sleep!
Hearts may ache
While the long hours go creeping
Hearts may break