Last, a little morning space,
Lead him to that leafy place
Where Our Lady sits awake,
For all mothers' sake.
Bosomed with the Blessed One,
He shall mind her of her Son,
Once so folded from all harms
In her shrining arms.
(~In her veil of blue,
Dormi, dormi, tu.~)
So; -- and fare thee well.
Softly, -- Gabriel . . .
When the first faint red shall come,
Bid the Day-star lead him home,
For the bright world's sake,
To my heart, awake.