I.
Sleep, little babe, on my knee,
       &nbspSleep, for the midnight is chill,
And the moon has died out in the tree,
       &nbspAnd the great human world goeth ill.
Sleep, for the wicked agree:
       &nbspSleep, let them do as they will.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.


II.
Sleep, thou hast drawn from my breast
       &nbspThe last drop of milk that was good;
And now, in a dream, suck the rest,
       &nbspLest the real should trouble thy blood.
Suck, little lips dispossessed,
       &nbspAs we kiss in the air whom we would.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.



III.
O lips of thy father! the same,
       &nbspSo like! Very deeply they swore
When he gave me his ring and his name,
       &nbspTo take back, I imagined, no more!
And now is all changed like a game,
       &nbspThough the old cards are used as of yore?
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.

IV.
“Void in law,” said the Courts. Something wrong
       &nbspIn the forms? Yet, “Till death part us two,
I, James, take thee, Jessie,” was strong,
       &nbspAnd One witness competent. True
Such a marriage was worth an old song,
       &nbspHeard in Heaven though, as plain as the New.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.

V.
Sleep, little child, his and mine!
       &nbspHer throat has the antelope curve,
And her cheek just the colour and line
       &nbspWhich fade not before him nor swerve:
Yet she has no child!—the divine
       &nbspSeal of right upon loves that deserve.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.


VI.
My child! though the world take her part,
       &nbspSaying “She was the woman to choose;
He had eyes, was a man in his heart,”—
       &nbspWe twain the decision refuse:
We ... weak as I am, as thou art, ...
       &nbspCling on to him, never to loose.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.

VII.
He thinks that, when done with this place,
       &nbspAll’s ended? he’ll new-stamp the ore?
Yes, Cæsar’s—but not in our case.
       &nbspLet him learn we are waiting before
The grave’s mouth, the heaven’s gate, God’s face
       &nbspWith implacable love evermore.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.


VIII.
He’s ours, though he kissed her but now,
       &nbspHe’s ours, though she kissed in reply:
He’s ours, though himself disavow,
       &nbspAnd God’s universe favour the lie;
Ours to claim, ours to clasp, ours below,
       &nbspOurs above, ... if we live, if we die.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.



IX.
Ah baby, my baby, too rough
       &nbspIs my lullaby? What have I said?
Sleep! When I’ve wept long enough
       &nbspI shall learn to weep softly instead,
And piece with some alien stuff
       &nbspMy heart to lie smooth for thy head.
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.

X.
Two souls met upon thee, my sweet;
       &nbspTwo loves led thee out to the sun:
Alas, pretty hands, pretty feet,
       &nbspIf the one who remains (only one)
Set her grief at thee, turned in a heat
       &nbspTo thine enemy,—were it well done?
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.


XI.
May He of the manger stand near
       &nbspAnd love thee! An infant He came
To His own who rejected Him here,
       &nbspBut the Magi brought gifts all the same.
I hurry the cross on my Dear!
       &nbspMy gifts are the griefs I declaim!
       &nbsp       &nbspSleep.