Lullaby! Lullaby! <br />There’s a tower strong and high <br />Built of oak and brick and stone, <br />Stands before a wood alone. <br />The doors are of the oak so brown <br />As any ale in Oxford town, <br />The walls are builded warm and thick <br />Of the old red Roman brick, <br />The good grey stone is over all <br />In arch and floor of the tower tall. <br />And maidens three are living there <br />All in the upper chamber fair, <br />Hung with silver, hung with pall, <br />And stories painted on the wall. <br />And softly goes the whirring loom <br />In my ladies’ upper room, <br />For they shall spin both night and day <br />Until the stars do pass away. <br />But every night at evening. <br />The window open wide they fling, <br />And one of them says a word they know <br />And out as three white swans they go, <br />And the murmuring of the woods is drowned <br />In the soft wings’ whirring sound, <br />As they go flying round, around, <br />Singing in swans’ voices high <br />A lonely, lovely lullaby.<br /><br />Clive Staples Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lullaby-91/
