"Rock a bye, babies,
Your cradle hangs high;
Soft down your pillow,
Your curtain the sky.
Father will feed you,
While mother will sing,
And shelter our darlings
With her warm wing."
by Harriet Monroe
What a boom! boom!
Sounds among the honeysuckles!
Saying, "Room! room!
Hold your breath and mind your knuckles!"
And a fairy birdling bright
Flits like a living dart of light,