When we fall out with those we love, And kiss again with tears! For when we came where lies the child We lost in other years, There above the little grave, 'SWEET AND LOW, SWEET AND LOW.' WEET and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. HE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: O love, they die in yon rich sky, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, |