Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/291

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MIRIAM'S LULLABY.

IN 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.