Jewish Lullaby

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Title:     Jewish Lullaby
Author: Eugene Field [More Titles by Field]

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 Judaea's heart was wrung
By centuries of woe.

The shadow of those 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.

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,
'Twas sweet with love, my child.

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
Judaea's fainting soul.

[The end]
Eugene Field's poem: Jewish Lullaby

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