Fair is the castle up on the hill —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
The night is fair, and the waves are still,
And the wind is singing to you and to me
In this lowly home beside the sea —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
On yonder hill is store of wealth —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
And revellers drink to a little one's health;
But you and I bide night and day
For the other love that has sailed away —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
See not, dear eyes, the forms that creep
Ghostlike, O my own!
Out of the mists of the murmuring deep;
Oh, see them not and make no cry
Till the angels of death have passed us by —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
Ah, little they reck of you and me —
Hushaby, sweet my own!
In our lonely home beside the sea;
They seek the castle up on the hill,
And there they will do their ghostly will —
Hushaby, O my own!
Here by the sea a mother croons
“Hushaby, sweet my own!”
In yonder castle a mother swoons
While the angels go down to the misty deep,
Bearing a little one fast asleep —
Hushaby, sweet my own!