THE BIRDS’ LULLABY

Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping

With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;

All day we have carolled, and now would be sleeping,

So echo the anthems we warbled to you;

While we swing, swing,

And your branches sing,

And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.

Sing to us, cedars; the night-wind is sighing,

Is wooing, is pleading, to hear you reply;

And here in your arms we are restfully lying,

And longing to dream to your soft lullaby;

While we swing, swing,

And your branches sing,

And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.

Sing to us, cedars; your voice is so lowly,

Your breathing so fragrant, your branches so strong;

Our little nest-cradles are swaying so slowly,

While zephyrs are breathing their slumberous song.

And we swing, swing,

While your branches sing,

And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.