Under the breath

Since tears will never bring thee back,

Why should I weep?

I would not any moan of mine

Should break thy sleep.

Sleep on, my baby! By thy side

I will not stir

More than the bird that broods and dreams

Deep in the fir,—

The bird that dreams of fluttering joy

Full soon her own,

Nor sees the shadow at her feet

Whose joy has flown!