The Fisher Child's Lullaby

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

 The wind is out in its rage to-night,
And your father is far at sea.
The rime on the window is hard and white
But dear, you are near to me.
Heave ho, weave low,
Wave of the briny deep;
Seethe low an breathe low,
But sleep you, my little one,
Sleep, sleep.

The little boat rocks in the cove no more,
But the flting sea-gulls wail;
I peer through the darkness that wraps
the shore,
For sight of a home set sail.
Heave ho, weave low,
Waves of the briny deep;
Seethe low and breathe low,
But sleep you, my little one,
Sleep, sleep.

Ay, lad of mine, thy father may die
In the gale that rides the sea,
But we’ll not believe it, not you and I,
Who mind us of Galilee.
Heave ho, weave low,
Waves of the briny deep;
But sleep you, my little one,
Sleep, sleep.

Add your comment
ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.