Frederic Manning - At Even lyrics

Hush ye! Hush ye! My babe is sleeping. Hush, ye winds, that are full of sorrow! Hush, ye rains, from your weary weeping! Give him slumber until to-morrow. Hush ye, yet! In the years hereafter, Surely sorrow is all his reaping; Tears shall be in the place of laughter, Give him peace for a while in sleeping. Hush ye, hush! he is weak and ailing: Send his mother his share of weeping. Hush ye, winds, from your endless wailing; Hush ye, hush ye, my babe is sleeping!