V.

The evening fell on field and street; The glow-worm lit his phosphor lamp, For fairy forms and fairy feet, That gathered for their nightly tramp

Where grass was green and flowers were sweet. In devious circles, round and round, The night-hawk coursed the twilight sky, Or shot like lightning the profound,

With breezy thunder in the cry That marked his furious rebound! The zephyrs breathed through elm and ash From new-mown hay and heliotrope,

And came through Philip's open sash With sheen of stars that lit the cope, And twinkling of the fire-fly's flash. He thought of Mildred and his boy;

And something moved him more than pride, And purer than his manly joy; For while these swelled with turbid tide, His gratitude had no alloy.

He heard the baby's weary plaint; He heard the mother's soothing words; And sitting in his hushed restraint, One voice was murmur of the birds,

And one the hymning of a saint! And as he sat alone, immersed In the fond fancies of the time, Her voice in mellow music burst,

And by a rhythmic stair of rhyme Led down to sleep the child she nursed. “Rockaby, lullaby, bees in the clover!— Crooning so drowsily, crying so low —

Rockaby, lullaby, dear little rover! Down into wonderland — Down to the under-land — Go, oh go!

Down into wonderland go! “Rockaby, lullaby, rain on the clover! Tears on the eyelids that waver and weep! Rockaby, lullaby — bending it over!

Down on the mother-world, Down on the other world! Sleep, oh sleep! Down on the mother-world sleep!

“Rockaby, lullaby, dew on the clover! Dew on the eyes that will sparkle at dawn! Rockaby, lullaby, dear little rover! Into the stilly world —

Into the lily world, Gone! oh gone! Into the lily-world, gone!”