IRELAND.

OW sleep, my child, my darling, for I sit
watching you;

The sun on the green fields sleepeth, the moon on the
waves so blue;

Then sleep, my child, my darling—my lovely one, sleep

too.

On a bed of fragrant roses asleep the morning lies,

And the quiet evening sleepeth where the dusky hill- |
tops rise ;

Then sleep, my child, my darling—do thou, too, close
thine eyes.

In a rock-bound hollow lying, the winds sleep ’neath the

hill ;

With feathery clouds for pillow, the stars sleep calm and
still;

Then sleep, my child, my darling—do thou, too, sleep
thy fill.

35