But I stole me past the graveyard wall,
For the voice of my baby seemed to call;
And I kenned me a voice, though my lips were dumb:
Hush, baby, hush! for mother is come.
I passed the streets to my husband’s home;
The chamber stairs in a dream I clomb.
I heard the sound of each sleeper’s breath,
Light waves that break on the shores of death.
I listened a space at my chamber door,
Then stole like a moon-ray over its floor.
My babe was asleep on a stranger arm.
“O baby, my baby, the grave is so warm,
“Though dark and so deep, for mother is there!
O come with me from the pain and care!
“O come with me from the anguish of earth,
Where the bed is banked with a blossoming girth,
“Where the pillow is soft and the rest is long,
And mother will croon you a slumber-song,
“A slumber-song that will charm your eyes
To a sleep that never in earth-song lies!