He's fond of a merry jest.
'When the little folks yawn they are ready to go,
And Jack Tot is lifting his sail—Hee-hoo!
In the swell how the little folks nod—He-hoo!
Just see how the little folks nod.
'And some have sailed off when the sky was black,
And the poor little sailors have never come back,
But have steered for the City of God—Heigh-ho!
The beautiful City of God!"
The white-haired man closed his eyes and his voice sank low, and the last words fell softly in a solemn silence that lasted for a long moment after the lullaby was finished. Presently Sinth came to take the sleeping child.