NORMAN CRADLE-SONG by VINCENT JAMES O'SULLIVAN

When the moon is afloat,
And the ocean at rest,
The sea-elf goes forth
To the town he loves best:
Up from his cave, over the wave,
With joy in his breast.

@3Singing:@1 Sleep, little baby,
And dream on the sea,
That lulls round thy cradle,
And murmurs to thee

The Stars are a-shine
And the waves are at play, --
Rushing in to the shore
From the wind-stricken bay;
And the sea-elf is there, with the brine in his hair,
As merry as they.

@3Singing:@1 The soft fleecy moon
Is laughing with glee,
And soothing, my baby,
A dream-song to thee.

The sea-elf goes roving
When the moon waxes bright,
And plays in the churchyard
Till fadeth the light:
His morrice he paces, then deftly retraces
His steps through the night.

@3Singing:@1 Alack, it is gone!
The silvery moon,
With its great holy face
It waneth too soon:

Ere it passes, my baby,
A hymn it will croon,
Of the splendour of God
And the Heavenly noon.

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