Page:The year's at the spring.djvu/47

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THE • YEAR'S • AT • THE • SPRING


Cradle-Song

FROM groves of spice,
O'er fields of rice,
Athwart the lotus-stream,
I bring for you,
Aglint with dew,
A little lovely dream.


Sweet, shut your eyes,
The wild fire-flies
Dance through the fairy neem;[1]
From the poppy-bole
For you I stole
A little lovely dream.


Dear eyes, good-night,
In golden light
The stars around you gleam;
On you I press
With soft caress
A little lovely dream.

  1. A lilac-tree (Hindustani).

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