Epigraph
So among my babes I go,
Singing high and singing low;
Striving for the silver tone
Which my memory holds alone.
If I chant my little lays
Tunefully, be yours the praise;
If I fail, ’tis I must rue
Not t’ have closelier followed you.
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So among my babes I go,
Singing high and singing low;
Striving for the silver tone
Which my memory holds alone.
If I chant my little lays
Tunefully, be yours the praise;
If I fail, ’tis I must rue
Not t’ have closelier followed you.