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Jewish Lullaby
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

My harp is on the willow-tree,
Else would I sing, O love, to thee
   A song of long-ago---
Perchance the song that Miriam sung
Ere yet Judea's heart was wrung
   By centuries of woe.

I ate my crust in tears to-day,
As scourged I went upon my way---
   And yet my darling smiled;
Ay, beating at my breast, he laughed---
My anguish curdled not the draught---
   'T was sweet with love, my child!

The shadow of the centuries lies
Deep in thy dark and mournful eyes---
   But, hush! and close them now;
And in the dreams that thou shalt dream
The light of other days shall seem
   To glorify thy brow!

Our harp is on the willow-tree---
I have no song to sing to thee,
   As shadows round us roll;
But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear
Jehovah's voice that speaks to cheer
   Judea's fainting soul!

 

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