Poems

Chapter 43: THE GIPSY'S LULLABY.

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About This Book

This collection gathers lyrical pieces that trace the day's and year's cycles, moving through sunrise, morning, noonday, sunset, moonlight and seasonal scenes. It pairs brief landscape lyrics with sonnets, songs, and occasional narrative ballads, blending vivid natural description—mountains, streams, birds, and coastal views—with meditative reflections on mortality, faith, memory, and poetic ambition. The tone alternates between pastoral celebration and sober contemplation, favoring clear sensory detail, moral sentiment, and accessible stanza forms that foreground feeling and observation over formal experimentation.

THE GIPSY'S LULLABY.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Though thy fond mother's breast,

Where thy young head reclines,

Is a stranger to rest;

And oh! may soft slumber

Descend on thine e'e,

That the sorrow she feels

May be shared not by thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Thy father has gone

On his perilous track,

And thy mother will weep,

Till he safely comes back;

But rest thee in peace,

With soft sleep in thine e'e,

Though the tear is in her's

That is shared not by thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep!