LULLABIES NEW AND OLD.

Otago Witness, Issue 2856, 9 December 1908, Page 81

LULLABIES NEW AND OLD.

By Jessie Mackay.

i Children move \n the world of music. The sublime haTmonies of the nine-sphered universe are the language oi heaven, and j i " heaven lies about us in our infancy." j ', What woman is to dull or tuneless that 6he can hold a nestling babe to her withi out the waking wish to coo and croon jto it? For that matter, what man? It I is strange, but -true, that some «f the ! sweetest baby-songs in otir language have I been written by meu. Has not Pennyj son his silvery "Sweet and Low," slipped 1 libe a willow leaf between the battle- : scrolls of Princess Ida's wisdom ?—? — Sweet and low, sweet end low, Wind of -the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, I Wind of the western eea! I Over the rolling waters go, j Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; : While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. And there is a sweetness that goes knofelike home in Jean Ingelow's song to the dead child in "Strife and Peace" : — " Sleep an, thou pretty, pretty lamb," Be hears the fond nurse say; " And if angels stand *t *thy right hand, As now belike they may. And if angels meet at thy bed's feet, I fear them not this clay. " Come wealth, come want io thee, dear heart, 3/t was all one to me, For thy pretly tongue far sweeter rung Than could gold and fee ; And ever the wmle thy waking smile It was right fair to see " I Among New Zealand writers, Mr ' Jcliacnes Andersen, has given us a lyric of j lasting worth in hife ''Cradle Song" : — Song of the night, sang of the day. Where are tbe lorms that we fondled alway? Song of the eve, song of the morn, Soon they forsake us as others are born. | Goest so booh, idol of love' Goest .=o soon to the Father above? Thou in mine arms cradled shalt be; — Goest so soon from the cradle and me? J Earth is too wide for tliy weak little feet? i Life is too weary? — And Heaven so sweet? Idol of love, sou! of my heart, Heaven is thine who of H&a'v en wast part. i And Mary Pojnter's " Slumber Song" has i a haunting cadence .—. — Down beside the river flowing, Whore the broom aud flax are growing, | Little breezes whisper gently, as night's music softly swells , ! And ]ik« bells of Elfin pealing. ! Lonely through *he shadows stealing, 1 Tmkhug, tinkling through the twilight comes I the sound of cattle bells, i Sleep iben, sleep, my little daughter, ! Cattle bells jnd wind and water, . Weaving, weaving chains of slumber cast I about thee Dreamland's spells. \ There is nerve and pafchos in this frag- | ment from Mr Arthur AdamVe "Lullaby" : — 1 Day has fled to the west afar, . Where no shadows or sorrows «re: O'er earth's ladiant western rim Cod h:is gathered the day to Him. Hu;h' iL..' rivei of night js here, Flowing <ilent y. cool and clear, With its my.'-tical thoughts, that throng, , And itv silences deep as song. ; Babe of my boporu, sleep , j Tender, f-weet blossom, sleep l Hearts may ache While the long hours go creeping; Hearts may break , While my baby is sleeping ; j Never wake, j Though thy mother i? weeping; j Babe of my bosom, sleep l i i Needless to say that the lullaby is nobly ! represented in CVlti'. poet<ry. In an album of liisli Gongs wrjtten or adapted by Alfred Peice\al Grave.- if this airy "lumber song: , I've found my bonme babe a nest 1 On Slumber Tree. I'll ro civ you there to rosy rest, j A=t< re Machree' j Oh, lulla lo 1 sicg all the leaves On Slumber Tree, Til! everything that hurts or gr.cves Afar must nee ) I'd put my pietly ch:!d to fnat i Awaj from me, ' "Within the new mcou'- <-i ver Loat I On Slumber fc^a And v.hen jcur -t.-T; -j.l is o'er, 1 From Slumber Sc-a, 1 My precious oi c. y u'll step tc °horc j 1 On mother's kjiee j One of the s'tic'ct and swc-eletl of mother i-on.-o, though of tl>e srave. uot the ' tr-'t"?. :- R^dcn Noil's "LAmout for a ; Liltle Child" i.—- '

I am lying in the tomb, love, Lying in the tomb, Though I move within the gloom, love, Breathe within the gloom! Men deem life not fled, dear. Deem vay life,; rot fled... , „" .. TW I with -tfess amrictead, .dear; ~ : - I with thee~^asn dead- j "-'-"- - "*■■'" •— t O my httle cKJd! V *_'-"-' '" -'- ,-i -- r "J What is .he gr-gy-_woxlS, •SarlSSgT "^ '- What -is 'the «*ey vrgns~:z S: ":., .* ' -" Where the worm_-lies^uxted,i..diueling? The death- wo«n fies.:.r<jH«Sa ?•" .'^ They tell me of' the spring", "dear! Do I want the spring?. . ' "'. Wil>U,pb#^ uptrh^&ef wfng,=*tteai, — The joy-pulse or.fwer wing, Thy songs, thy "Blossoming, • ';■ 0 "my little child? "' " In this. anonvtHous Highland lament,^ofa- widely different strain, we are carried" to /the gates o£3i'aerie._Jl*he -mother ku©ws>.. but dares net tefct^ that 'the cMlcT^she seeks has Wen carried " away by the fairies : — - """- _ I I left my darling lying Itere,- | A-lying here, a-'.ying here, j I left my darling lying here, t To go and gather blackberries 1 found the *rack of the swan on the lake, The swan on the Sake, the swan on the lake, I found the tra<:k of the swan on the lake, But ne'er » trace of baby O! I've found the trail of the mountain mist, The mountain mist, the .mountain mist, Fve found the trail of the mountain mist, But ne'er a trace of baby 0! • iiut a stranger fantasy yet is, Robert Buchanan's "Faery Foster-mother" : — Bright eyes, light eyee, daughter of a Fay! I had not been a married wife a twelvemonth and a- day, I hod not nursed my little one a month upon my knee, When down among the bluebell banks rose elfins three times three. They gripped me by the raven Lair, I could not cry for fear, They put a hempen rope around my waist and dragged me here; They made me sit and give thee Buck as mortal mothers can, Bright Eyes. Light Eyes, strange and weak and warn! Gold Haii, Cold Hair, Daughter to a King! Wrapped in bands of snow-white silk with jewels glittering, Tiny slippers of the gold upon thy feet co thin, Silver cradle velvet-lined foi thee to ■slumber in; Pigmy pages, crimson-haired, to serve thee on their knees, To bring th«e toys and greenwood flowers, end honeybags of bees. I was but a peasant lass, my babe had but i the milk, Gold Hair, Cold Hair, ra-imented in silk! Weak Thing, Meek Thing, -take no blame from me, ; Altho' my babe may fade for lack of what I give to thee; For though thou art \ stranger thing, and ' though thou art my woe, To feel thee sucking at my breast is all the joy I know. j It soofhes me though afar away I hear my daughter call. My heart were broken if I felt no little lips I at all! If I had none to tend at all, to be its nurse and slave, Weak Thing, M>eek Thing, I should shriek and rave! And all the dreamy iridescent glory of | j Celtic song glows through these lines of ("Fiona Macleod"— lines after which it would be hard to quote more : — Lennavan mo, Lennavan mo, Who is it swinging you to and fro? j I'm thinking it is an angel fair. The Angel that looks on th e gulf from the lowest stair, And swings the green world upward by its leagues, of sunshine hair. I-.onnavan mo, Leimavan mo, Who is it swinge you and the Angel to and fro ? It is He whose faintest thought is a world afar, It is He whose wish is a leaping sevenmooned star ; It is lie, Lennavan mo, To whom you and I and all things «crw. Lonnavan mo, . Lenn avan tno, It is only a little wee lass you are, Eilidh-mo-chrce, But as this wee blo.=som has roots in the dentus of the sky. So you ai c at one with the Lord of Eternity— "'ltaT 60 S lhat yy ° U nre ' my m °niing Eilidh-mo-chree, Lemiaran mo. Lennevan mo.