A Cradle Song
“Coth yani me von gilli beg,
’N heur ve thu more a creena.”
The angels are stooping
Above your bed;
They weary of trooping
With the whimpering dead.
God’s laughing in heaven
To see you so good;
The Shining Seven
Are gay with His mood.
I kiss you and kiss you,
My pigeon, my own;
Ah, how I shall miss you
When you have grown.