The sky is dark and the hills are white <br />As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night, <br />And this is the song the storm-king sings, <br />As over the world his cloak he flings: <br /> "Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;" <br />He rustles his wings and gruffly sings: <br /> "Sleep, little one, sleep." <br /> <br />On yonder mountain-side a vine <br />Clings at the foot of a mother pine; <br />The tree bends over the trembling thing, <br />And only the vine can hear her sing: <br /> "Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep; <br />What shall you fear when I am here? <br /> Sleep, little one, sleep." <br /> <br />The king may sing in his bitter flight, <br />The tree may croon to the vine to-night, <br />But the little snowflake at my breast <br />Liketh the song I sing the best,-- <br /> Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep; <br />Weary thou art, anext my heart <br /> Sleep, little one, sleep.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/norse-lullaby/
