William B. Yeats

A Cradle Song

*"Coth yani me von gilli beg,

'N heur ve thu more a creena."*

 

The angels are stooping

Above your bed;

They weary of trooping

With the whimpering dead.

 

God's laughing in heaven

To see you so good;

The Shining Seven

Are gay with His mood.

 

I kiss you and kiss you,

My pigeon, my own;

Ah, how I shall miss you

When you have grown.