Ho, Little Wind, come out of the west

And whisper the song that is laden with rest.

The world is a-weary,

The day has been long

So sing for my dearie

A lullaby-song.

111

Lullaby, lullaby, soft and low,

For that is the way that the Fairy-horns blow;

And thither and hither and thither and here

The Fairies bring dreams for the sleep of my dear.

Lullaby, lullaby, low.

Ho, Little Wind, you may creep, if you will

Where the willows bend low at the foot of the hill;

The flowers are closing,

They drowse in the dew—

And dozing, and dozing,

They wait now for you.

Lullaby, lullaby, soft and deep;

The stars far away now are climbing the steep,

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