Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/287

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the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen— For what listen they? For a song and for a charm, See they glisten in alarm, And the moon is waxing warm To her what I shall say. Moon! keep wide thy golden ears— Hearken, stars ! and hearken, spheres!— Hearken, thou eternal sky! I sing an infant's lullaby, A pretty lullaby. Listen, listen, listen, listen, Glisten, glisten, glisten, glisten, And hear my lullaby! Though the rushes that will make Its cradle still are in the lake— Though the linen that will be Its swathe, is on the cotton tree— Though the woollen that will keep It warm, is on the silly sheep— Listen, starlight, listen, listen, Glisten, glisten, glisten, glisten. And hear my lullaby. 