'They that Walk in Darkness'

“Sleep, my birdie, shut your eyes,O sleep, my little one;Too soon from cradle you'll ariseTo work that must be done.

“Almonds and raisins you shall sell,And holy scrolls shall write;So sleep, dear child, sleep sound and well,Your future beckons bright.

“Brum shall learn of ancient days,And love good folk of this;So sleep, dear babe, your mother prays,And God will send you bliss.”

“‘God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations,Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!God! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice!Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds!And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow,And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!’”