OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in Friendship's Offering, 1827/The Tomb of Madame Langhans

THE TOMB OF MADAME LANGHANS
Sculpted by Johann August Nahl (This image is not from the Gift Book)
From Poems of Felicia Hemans, 1872, page 457
THE TOMB OF MADAME LANGHANS.
"To a mysteriously consorted pair This place is consecrate; to death and life, And to the best affections that proceed From this conjunction."Wordsworth.
[At Hindlebank, near Berne, she is represented as bursting from the sepulchre, with her infant in her arms, at the sound of the last trumpet. An inscription on the tomb concludes thus:—"Here am I, O God! with the child whom thou hast given me."]
How many hopes were borne upon thy bier, O bride of stricken love! in anguish hither! Like flowers, the first and fairest of the year, Pluck'd on the bosom of the dead to wither; Hopes from their source all holy, though of earth, All brightly gathering round affection's hearth.
Of mingled prayer they told; of Sabbath hours; Of morn's farewell, and evening's blessed meeting; Of childhood's voice, amidst the household bowers; And bounding step, and smile of joyous greeting;— But thou, young mother! to thy gentle heart Did'st take thy babe, and meekly so depart.
How many hopes have sprung in radiance hence! Their trace yet lights the dust where thou art sleeping! A solemn joy comes o'er me, and a sense Of triumph, blent with nature's gush of weeping. As, kindling up the silent stone, I see The glorious vision, caught by faith, of thee.
Slumberer! love calls thee, for the night is past; Put on the immortal beauty of thy waking! Captive! and hear'st thou not the trumpet's blast, The long, victorious note, thy bondage breaking? Thou hear'st, thou answer'st, "God of earth and heaven! Here am I, with the child whom thou hast given!"
The following inscription has been attributed to Mrs Hemans but it does not appear in her collected works and it seems more than likely it is the translation by Mrs. Rose Lawrence that she included in The Last Autumn at a Favourite Residence, and Other Poems (2nd Edition, 1829) and which is reproduced here.
Inscription
ON THE TOMB OF MADAME LANGHANS
AT HINDELBANK, NEAR BERNE.
FROM THE GERMAN OF HALLER.
This celebrated monument represents her as ascending through the newly opening grave, bearing in her arms the infant whose birth occasioned her death.
—"Hark!—through the gloom the archangel's trumpet speaks!
Child of my anguish! from thy slumbers rise:
Thy Saviour's voice the grave's dread silence breaks,
And bids thee seek with me thy native skies."
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in New Year's Gift, 1829/The Child's First Grief

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
I. "Oh! call my brother back to me,
 I cannot play alone;
The summer comes with flower and bee,—
 Where is my brother gone?
II. "The butterfly is glancing bright
 Across the sun-beam's track;
I care not now to chase its flight—
 Oh! call my brother back!
III. "The flowers run wild—the flowers we sowed
 Around our garden-tree;
Our vine is drooping with its load—
 Oh! call him back to me!"
IV. "He would not hear my voice, fair child!
 He may not come to thee;
The face that once like spring-time smiled,
 On earth no more thou'lt see.
V. "A rose's brief, bright life of joy,
 Such unto him was given;—
Go! thou must play alone, my boy!
 Thy brother is in heaven."
VI. "And has he left his birds and flowers?  And must I call in vain?
And through the long, long summer hours,
 Will he not come again?
VII. And by the brook, and in the glade,
 Are all our wanderings o'er?— Oh! while my brother with me played,
 Would I had loved him more!"
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in Friendship's Offering, 1826/To an Infant

TO AN INFANT.
Thou wak'st from happy sleep, to play,
With bounding heart, my boy!
Before thee lies a long, bright day
Of summer and of joy!
Thou hast no heavy thought or dream,
To cloud thy fearless eye;—
Long be it thus!—life's early stream
Should still reflect the sky!
Yet,—ere the cares of earth lie dim,
On thy young spirit's wings,—
Now, in thy morn, forget not Him
From whom each pure thought springs!
So,—in thy onward vale of tears,
Where'er thy path may be,
When strength hath bowed to evil years,—
He will remember thee! F. H.
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in Friendship's Offering, 1827/Last Rites

From Poems of Felicia Hemans, 1872, page 372
LAST RITES.
By the mighty minster's bell, Tolling with a sudden swell; By the colours half-mast high, O'er the sea hung mournfully;  Know, a prince hath died!
By the drum's dull muffled sound, By the arms that sweep the ground, By the volleying muskets' tone, Speak ye of a soldier gone  In his manhood's pride.
By the chanted psalm that fills Reverently the ancient hills,$^1$
Learn, that from his harvests done, Peasants bear a brother on  To his last repose.
By the pall of snowy white Through the yew-trees gleaming bright; By the garland on the bier, Weep! a maiden claims thy tear—  Broken is the rose!
Which is the tenderest rite of all?— Buried virgin's coronal, Requiem o'er the monarch's head, Farewell gun for warrior dead,  Herdsman's funeral hymn?
Tells not each of human woe? Each of hope and strength brought low? Number each with holy things, If one chastening thought it brings  Ere life's day grow dim!
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in Friendship's Offering, 1827/The Brigand Leader and his Wife

THE BRIGAND
Painted by C. EastlakeEngraved by G. B. Ellis
Taken from the review in The Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 20, page 903
THE BRIGAND LEADER AND HIS WIFE.
(From a picture by Eastlake.)
By Mrs Hemans.
Dark chieftain of the heath and height,
Wild feaster on the hills by night!
Seest thou the stormy sunset's glow,
Flung back by glancing spears below?
Now, for one strife of stern despair!
The foe hath track'd thee to thy lair.
Thou, against whom the voice of blood
Hath risen from track and lonely wood,
And in whose dreams a man should be,
Not of the water, nor the tree;
Haply, thine own last hour is nigh,
Yet, shalt thou not forsaken die.
There's one, that pale beside thee stands,
More than all thy mountain bands!
She will not shrink, in doubt and dread,
When the balls whistle round thy head;
Nor leave thee, though thy closing eye
No longer may to hers reply.
Oh! many a soft and quiet grace
Hath faded from her soul and face;
And many a thought, the fitting guest
Of woman's meek, religious breast,
Hath perish'd, in her wanderings wide,
Through the deep forests, by thy side.
Yet, mournfully surviving all,
A flower upon a ruin's wall,
A friendless thing, whose lot is cast,
Of lovely ones to be the last;
Sad, but unchanged, through good and ill,
Thine is her lone devotion still.
And, oh! not wholly lost the heart,
Where that undying love hath part;
Not worthless all, though far and long
From home estranged, and guided wrong:
Yet, may its depths by Heaven be stirr'd,
Its prayer for thee be pour'd and heard.
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in Friendship's Offering, 1827/Fading Flowers

The plate is taken from The Offering (1834), where it accompanies this poem.
FADING FLOWERS
Painted by J. M. WrightEngraved by E. Finden
Taken from a review in The Eclectic Review Vol. I, 1827, page 92
FADING FLOWERS. By Mrs. Hemans,
'O pale and drooping flowers!
Ye that so brightly meet the morning's eye!
Is there no sorrow in your native bowers
 That thus ye die?
 'Are there not folded wings
On the green boughs?—a silence and a gloom
Amidst the leaves and all the breathing things
 That loved your bloom?
 'No! the rejoicing bee
There woos the violets, as at early dawn;
And o'er the elastic sod, in tameless glee,  Still bounds the fawn.
 'And the rich bank ye crown'd,
By the wood's fount, yet hears a thousand songs
Float through the branches, trembling far around
 With happy throngs.
 'Wherefore, to us alone
Of all that walk the warm and laughing earth,
Bring ye sad thoughts of Hope and Beauty gone,  And vanished Mirth?
 'Why must your fading bells,
With the faint sweetness of your parting breath,
Remind us but of sorrowful farewells,  Decay and Death?
 'Surely, it is to teach
Our hearts, by converse with their changeful lot,
That, 'midst the glories which the blight can reach,
 Our Home is not.'
# Poems of Felicia Hemans in New Year's Gift, 1829

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
This work is available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.
The person who associated a work with this deed has dedicated the work to the public domain by waiving all of their rights to the work worldwide under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights, to the extent allowed by law. You can copy, modify, distribute and perform the work, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
Poems of Felicia Hemans in New Year's Gift, 1829
Compiled by Peter J. Bolton
Contents
* The Child's First Grief
* To a Child on his Birthday
# Poems (Craik)/Philip my King

POEMS.
# Poems (Craik)/Resigning

EIGHTEEN SONNETS.
# Paradise Lost (1674)

Paradise Lost is an epic poem by the 17th-century English poet John Milton. It was originally published in 1667 in ten books and written in blank verse. A second edition followed in 1674, redivided into twelve books (mimicking the division of Virgil's Aeneid) with minor revisions throughout and a note on the versification. Its sequel is Paradise Regained. Warning: template has been deprecated.

## Contents

* The Verse
* Book I
* Book II
* Book III
* Book IV
* Book V
* Book VI
* Book VII
* Book VIII
* Book IX
* Book X
* Book XI
* Book XII
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Poems (Geisse)/A Newsboy's Story

A NEWSBOY'S STORY.
"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me."—Matthew xxv. 40.
# Phyle v. Duffy

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
334 U.S. 431
Phyle v. Duffy
Argued: April 20, 21, 1948. --- Decided: June 7, 1948
Mr. Morris Lavine, of Los Angeles, Cal., for petitioner.
Mr. Clarence Alinn, of San Francisco, Cal., for respondent.
Mr. Justice BLACK delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Phosphor/front matter

COOK, DURRE & CO., PRINTERS.
129 RUSSELL STREET, MELBOURNE.
DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR
TO
HIS MOTHER.
# Photographic views of Asbury Park, Ocean Grove, and vicinity

* related portals: Photography.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
PHOTOGRAPHIC VIEWS
OF
Asbury Park, Ocean Grove
AND VICINITY.
CHICAGO AND NEW YORK RAND. McNALLY & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 1896.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
| | Page. |
| Asbury Park | 6 |
| Asbury Avenue Pavilion | 11 |
| Auditorium. Ocean Grove | 18, 20, 21 |
| Avenue of Tents, Ocean Grove | 23 |
| Avon | 31 |
| Bathing Hour, The | 19 |
| Bethesda Tents | 24 |
| Board Walk, Asbury Park | 7 |
| Board Walk, Ocean Grove | 22 |
| Coleman House | 9 |
| Deal Lake | 14, 25, 26 |
| Eighth Avenue | 17 |
| First Presbyterian Church | 16 |
| Fishing Pier, Asbury Park | 8 |
| Fourth Avenue | 10 |
| Grand Avenue | 16 |
| High School. Asbury Park | 13 |
| Hotel Brunswick | 10, 12 |
| Lenox Hotel | 10 |
| Library Hall | 16 |
| Life-Boat, Deal Beach | 30 |
| Life-Saving Crew and Apparatus, Deal Beach | 28 |
| Life-Saving Crew and Breeches Buoy, Deal Beach | 29 |
| Life-Saving Station, Deal Beach | 27 |
| Main Street, Asbury Park | 4 |
| Merry-Go-Round | 5 |
| Ocean Grove from Observatory | 24 |
| Ocean Hotel | 6 |
| Plaza Hotel | 5, 9 |
| Post Office, Asbury Park | 13 |
| Railroad Depot, North Asbury Park | 12 |
| Sea, A Calm and Beautiful | 3 |
| Second Avenue | 9 |
| Spring Lake | 32 |
| Sunset Hall | 10 |
| Wesley Lake | 5, 9, 18 |
| West End Hotel | 6 |
Copyright, 1896, by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago
A CALM AND BEAUTIFUL SEA.
MAIN STREET, ASBURY PARK.
THE PALACE.MERRY-GO-ROUND.PLAZA HOTEL.
WESLEY LAKE, ASBURY PARK.
OCEAN HOTEL.WEST END HOTEL.
ASBURY AVENUE, LOOKING WEST FROM OCEAN AVENUE, ASBURY PARK.
BOARD WALK AND BEACH, ASBURY PARK.
FISHING PIER, ASBURY PARK.
SECOND AVENUE, LOOKING WEST FROM OCEAN AVENUE, ASBURY PARK.
FOURTH AVENUE, LOOKING EAST, ASBURY PARK.
ASBURY AVENUE PAVILION.
RAILROAD DEPOT, NORTH ASBURY PARK.
HOTEL BRUNSWICK, ASBURY PARK.
POST OFFICE, NORTH ASBURY PARK.
HIGH SCHOOL, ASBURY PARK.
DEAL LAKE, SOUTHWEST BRANCH, ASBURY PARK.
SUNSET LAKE, ASBURY PARK.
LIBRARY HALL.FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH.
GRAND AVENUE, LOOKING SOUTH FROM SECOND AVENUE, ASBURY PARK.
EIGHTH AVENUE, NEAR MAIN STREET, ASBURY PARK.
AUDITORIUM
WESLEY LAKE, FROM LAKE AVENUE, ASBURY PARK.
THE BATHING HOUR.
AUDITORIUM, OCEAN GROVE.
INTERIOR AUDITORIUM, OCEAN GROVE—9,600 Seats.
BOARD WALK, OCEAN GROVE.
AVENUE OF TENTS, OCEAN GROVE.
BETHESDA TENTS.WESLEY LAKE.
OCEAN GROVE, FROM OBSERVATORY.
BRIDGE ACROSS DEAL LAKE.
NORTH BRANCH, DEAL LAKE.
LIFE-SAVING STATION, DEAL BEACH.
LIFE-SAVING CREW AND APPARATUS, DEAL BEACH.
LIFE-SAVING CREW AND BREECHES BUOY, DEAL BEACH.
LIFE-BOAT, DEAL BEACH.
AVON, LOOKING ACROSS SHARK RIVER FROM BELMAR.
SPRING LAKE.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Phrase Book in the Canton Dialect (1888)

A CHINESE AND ENGLISH
Phrase Book
In the Canton Dialect;
OR
Dialogues on Ordinary and Familiar Subjects
FOR THE USE OF THE
Chinese resident in America, and of Americans desirous of
learning the Chinese Language; with the Pronunciation
of each word indicated in Chinese and
Roman Characters.
BY
T. L. STEDMAN
AND
K. P. LEE.
Copyright 1888.
New York: WILLIAM R. JENKINS, Publisher, Bookseller and Stationer, 851 & 853 Sixth Avenue.
CONTENTS.
​泥水木匠 蘇杭舖 銀行 請醫生 做廚 企枱 雜貨舖 街市 去街市買魚 坐馬車 請狀師 衙門
搭火車 搭火船 税闗 客庽 首飾舖書防舖 招呼語詞 洗衣雜貨 月份 禮拜日期 放假日 數目字 信稿 ​英語不求人目錄 相會語詞 離別語詞 天時 時令 時候 探朋友 年紀 學講話 冩字 書信館、寄貨公司 寄電報、打得律風
讀書 去禮拜堂讀書 耶穌教 問路 去綠衣房 租洗衣館 問免批 洗衣館 失票取衣 買枱𬃪等物 鉄器舖
# Phryne

Thy flattering picture, Phryne, is like thee, Onely in this, that you both painted be.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Poems by "Cushag"/Promise

PROMISE.
The first day came from the bitter north, Was there ever so cold a spring! But the sun shone out for an hour at noon, And we heard the cuckoo sing.
The next day woke with a cheerless blast And a sky that was gray with snow, But we heard the corncrake tune his pipe In the meadow down below.
The third day sobbed with a dismal rain, The very trees looked numb, But the swallows arrived on the old roof tree And we knew that the summer would come.
# Poems by "Cushag"/Rhullick-ny-Quakeryn

RHULLICK-NY-QUAKERYN.
What brings you over the hill to-night? What makes you look so treih? Are you hearing soun's in the win' to-night? Or seeing what we can't spy?
"You're snug an' warm down here, my son, In your thatch-house by the shore. But there's wan lyin' out in the storm, my son, That I think on more an' more."
"Will I take you home to the hill, to-night? Or will you stop till morn? You shall sleep in the children's bed to-night, And take the road at dawn."
"I would gladly stop down here, my son, An' with the childher bide; But there's wan lyin' out on the hill, my son. Is callin' me to his side."
"As I came over the hill to-night His voice spoke in mine ear— 'Are thou coming soon, my widowed wife, We are snugly housed up here.'"
"'The turf grows over our heads, my wife, The gorse is black and charred; But we lie as warm up here, my wife, As any in Maughold Church-yard.'"
"So its time I was takin' the road, my son, But bide you where you be; It's a road I must travel alone, my son, An' he will be waiting" for me."
"But mind you now what I say, to-night— When you find my senseless clay: You'll take me home to the hill that night, To the grave beside the way."
"You'll lay me there in the gorse, my son. Where he's waiting for me still; I could not rest in my churchyard grave An' him lyin' out on the hill."
# Poems by "Cushag"/The Days of my Life

THE DAYS OF MY LIFE.
The days of my life! They flow on like a dream, And I'm nearing the waves of the dim silent stream, Adrift in the darkness—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy shall follow me still.
The bright days of Springtime, the sunshine and flowers! No thought then of shadow, of storm-cloud or showers, Long, long have they left me—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy have followed me still.
There were dull days in Summer when sullen and gray The thunder clouds broke on the upland way. Though idols were shattered—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy have followed me still.
There were fair days in Autumn, when troubles took rest When harvests were garnered, and trials were blest, They have gone like the shadows—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy have followed me still.
The dark days of Winter! The storm and the rain, The joys that have vanished, the hopes that were vain; Their shadow remaineth—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy have followed me still.
So the days of my life shall flow on like a dream Till the Light glimmers far on the dark silent stream, Though dimly I see it—yet fear I no ill, For Goodness and Mercy will follow me still.
# Poems by "Cushag"/The Gable of the House

THE GABLE OF THE HOUSE
WHAT was there doin' on her? Aw dade, its hard to say. She wasn' for complainin' But goin'—night an' day. Aw, well; there's no wan at me now To make the bed or milk the cow!
The cough was subjec' to her, Aw teerin', teerin' still; She wore it out upon her feet
Yon time that I was ill.
Aw, well; I'm sick enough for all; But she's not hearin' when I call.
The times I'd not be sleepin' She'd up an' have a light,
An' do a bit of readin'—
But failin' in her sight.
Aw, well; I'm lyin' lonely now,
An' who's to go an' milk the cow?
Ay! Goin' goin' still,
Nor never warmed a cheer,
Its like she'll tire of sittin' quite,
The way she'll be up theer,
Like wearin' out her Sunday gown
An' longin' still for us that's down.
They're tellin' me to rise,
Me clo'es is on the chiss,
Aw, well, I havn' got no heart,
An' that's the way it iss!
What use of me above the groun'!
The gable of the house is down!
# Poems by "Cushag"/Shadow in Harvest

THE SHADOW IN HARVEST.
HUSHED is the harvest field that so lately resounded with mirth For the gathering in of the harvest, and the joy of the fruits of the earth:
Hushed is the song of the reapers, for lo! in the midst of their toil
Another Reaper has entered to gather in his spoil.
A fall from a loaded waggon; a still form lying there, The bright, gay tune he was whistling, still throbbing on the air. Alas! for the news they are bearing to the white house under the trees, Where the wife who will soon be a widow is nursing their babe on her knees.
"Baby," she sings, "My Baby! Daddy will come to us soon:
Daddy will come for the Mhellia, and we'll dance by the light of the moon. What do you see, my darling, and why that sudden frown?
It is only a shadow, my darling, for the sun is going down,"
How shall they bear to ruin that pretty baby play!
How shall they dare to tell her what they must so quickly say!
A trembling hand on the gate: one look in her startled face— No need for spoken words! God help her of His grace!
Like a lapwing over the meadow she has flown to her wounded mate;
One broken sob; then steady! the tears can be made to wait. What recks she how it happened, or where the fault may lie, She only knows that the sunshine is all gone out of her sky.
# Poems by "Cushag"/The Church Brings us Home

THE CHURCH BRINGS US HOME.
A COOISH, a kiss, an' a whisper,
A sooryin' summer's day;
Then work an' childher an' bother
The ress of the way.
Some takes the road by the Chappal,
An' some houls on by the Church,
An' some falls down by the wayside,
Lef all in the lurch.
I'm used on the Chappal for all—
It's homelier like in the dark,
But himself was took at the Pazofl,
An' larnt for Parish Clerk.
They're coming" to see me reglar—
Church wans an’ Chappal wans too;
An' I'm not say in' no ill of neither—
It's juss how we've grew.
The Church wans is middlin' free,
An' passin' the time o' day,
An' Church was in before the Chappal,
As th' oul people say.
The Chappal wans is high, though,
More prouder an' wearin' falls,
An' the power of fine discoorsin'
Thass at them when they calls.
But Church houls out her arrums
For every chile that's born;
An' it's Her that puts the blessin'
On the marriage morn.
When the work an' bother is over,
An' childher have left us to roam,
Like a tandhar oul' nursing mother
The Church brings us home.
An' then whether Church or Chappal,
Or fell by the way—we must come;
For without never makin' no difference,
The Church brings us Home.
# Poems by "Cushag"/Oie-Vie

OIE-VIE.
Oie-vie, oie-vie, ma chree, My villish veen, oie-vie! The boats are tossing at the quay, The tide is rising high.
Oie-vie!
I go till break of day, To glean for you, ma chree, Where silv’ry shoals of sceddan play, The Harvest of the Sea.
While I’m away, ma chree, And you are lapped in sleep, There’s One will watch for you and me, Whose Path is on the deep.
Fear not the rising wind, Oie-vie, oie-vie, ma chree; For He will have us in His Mind, Who stilled the raging sea.
Fear not the dark’ning night, For in His Hand we lie, Who steers us through from dark to light Oie-vie, ma veen, oie-vie!
The day will break ma chree, And home my heart will fly; To see you on the sunlit quay– Till then, ma veen, oie-vie!
Oie-vie!
# Poems by "Cushag"/Sweet Etty of Rhenwee

SWEET ETTY OF RHENWEE
O GAILY sing the birds among
The woods of Ballaharry,
And brightly shines the gorse along
The lanes of Ballavarry;
But I must go and leave them all
To sail upon the sea,
Unless you say one little word,
Sweet Etty of Rhenwee.
My father he will go his ways
And never heed or bother,
But Oh! My heart is failing when
I think upon the mother.
But I must leave them all and go
To sail upon the sea,
Until you say that little word,
Sweet Etty of Rhenwee.
We played together, boy and girl,
Among the gorse and heather,
And mine it was, in storm and shine,
To shield you from the weather.
But I must go away for all
To sail upon the sea,
Unless you say that little word,
Sweet Etty of Rhenwee.
O golden shines the gorse along
The lanes of Ballavarry,
And sweetly sing the birds among
The woods of Ballaharry.
But never came the Eirey home
That sailed upon the sea,
For never could she say that word,
Sweet Etty of Rhenwee.
# Poems by "Cushag"/The Glen of the Twilight

THE GLEN OF THE TWILIGHT.
WHAT road are you taking my lhiannoo veg villish,
And where will you go at the end of the day?
We are taking the road to the Glen of the Twilight
And 'Cadlag the Sleeper' is showing the way.
Where the Fayries are weaving the dreams for our pillow
And lighting the candles that burn in the sky;
Where 'Cadlag the Sleeper' is swaying the willow
And blackbirds are calling, Oie-vie, oie-vie!
And what will you do in the Glen of the Twilight,
When 'Cadlag the Sleeper' has found you a nest?
We'll play with the roses the Fayries will bring us
And murmur of waters will lull us to rest.
Where the Fayries are weaving the dreams for our pillow
And rocking the cradle where softly we'll lie;
Where 'Cadlag the Sleeper' is swaying the willow
And childher are nodding, Oie-vie, oie-vie.