When the stars sing lullabies,1
Eily may lie down to rest :2
Not more innocent the skies,3
Than the heart within her breast.4
Balmy breeze and dropping dew5
Are not fresher than is she ;6
All the earth, and heaven too,7
Are not dearer unto me.8
Slumber is death’s counterfeit :9
When the spell is o’er her laid,10
Looks she so divinely sweet,11
That of death I am afraid.12
If she dies, I’ll bury her13
Where the whitest blossoms grow ;14
Or, perchance, she would prefer15
For her grave, a mound of snow.16
Waiting for a solemn hush,17
Bursting into sudden song,18
I will tame the sweetest thrush19
Singing for her, loud and long.20
But the bird will only sing21
Over a deserted mound,22
And my flowers I shall fling23
Only on an empty ground.24
For my Eily will have flown25
To the land I cannot see,26
And the heart that is mine own27
Will be beating there for me.28
If she dies a dull despair.29
Will eclipse the green and blue ;30
But for me, I shall not care31
If she dies, I shall die too !32