LULLABY

This shall be thy lullaby,
Rocking on the stormy sea;
Though it roar in thunder wild,
Sleep, stilly sleep, my dark-haired child.

When our shuddering boat was crossing
Eldern's lake, so rudely tossing,
Then 'twas first my nursling smiled;
Sleep, softly sleep, my fair-browed child.

Waves above thy cradle break;
Foamy tears are on the cheek;
Yet the ocean's self grows mild
When it bears my slumbering child,
When it bears my slumbering child.

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The Beauty of Touch
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