Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/291

 N a bed of rushes woven, Sleep, my baby, sleep. Gurgling water lapping round him, Watch and ward to keep; While the reeds spread out above him Shadows still and deep. River, river, flowing past him, Bear his tears away; River, river, flowing to him, Bring him joy, I pray; Softest breezes, lily-scented, Round his beauty play; Hush thee, dearest, fairest, rarest. Here I must not stay.