Norse Lullaby
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

The sky is dark and the hills are white
      As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night;
And this is the song the storm-king sings,
As over the world his cloak he flings:
      “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;”
He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:
      “Sleep, little one, sleep.”

On yonder mountain-side a vine
Clings at the foot of a mother pine;
The tree bends over the trembling thing,
And only the vine can hear her sing:
      “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep—
What shall you fear when I am here?
      Sleep, little one, sleep.”

The king may sing in his bitter flight,
The pine may croon to the vine to-night,
But the little snowflake at my breast
Liketh the song I sing the best—
      “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;
Weary thou art, anext my heart;
      Sleep, little one, sleep.”

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