Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
Cradle Song
L
When at last a little boy’s
Cheek lies heavy as a rose
And his eyelids close?
This sweet hand all heedfully
I’ll undo for thee alone,
From his mother’s own.
With the burning stars of heaven,
He shall gladden with the sweet
Hasting of his feet:—
Leaping, as from pool to pool;
From a little laughing boy
Splashing rainbow joy!
How to keep this hovering hand?—
Never shut, as in a bond,
From the bright beyond?—
Tightly as a climbing rose,
Clasp it only so,—aright,
Lest his heart take fright.
The dusk is hung with blue.)
Lord Michael, wilt not thou rejoice
When at last a little boy’s
Heart, a shut-in murmuring bee,
Turns him unto thee?
To take his hand from Gabriel,
So his radiant cup of dream
May not spill a gleam?
Telling o’er thy breastplate, all
Colors, in his bubbling speech,
With his hand to each.
Sapphire is the blue,
Pearl and beryl, they are called,
Crysoprase and emerald,
Sard and amethyst
Numbered so, and kissed.)
For thy sharp, subduing sword!
Yea, Lord Michael, make no doubt
He will find it out:
His eyes will look at you.)
Last, a little morning space,
Lead him to that leafy place
Where Our Lady sits awake,
For all mothers’ sake.
He shall mind her of her Son,
Once so folded from all harms
In her shrining arms.
Dormi, dormi, tu.)
Softly,—Gabriel …
When the first faint red shall come,
Bid the Day-star lead him home,
For the bright world’s sake,
To my heart, awake.