Jewish Lullaby

My harp is on the willow-tree, Else would I sing, O love, to thee A song of long-ago-- Perchance the song that Miriam sung Ere yet Judea's heart was wrung By centuries of woe. I ate my crust in tears to-day, As scourged I went upon my way-- And yet my darling smiled; Ay, beating at my breast, he laughed-- My anguish curdled not the draught-- 'T was sweet with love, my child! The shadow of the centuries lies Deep in thy dark and mournful eyes-- But, hush! and close them now; And in the dreams that thou shalt dream The light of other days shall seem To glorify thy brow! Our harp is on the willow-tree-- I have no song to sing to thee, As shadows round us roll; But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear Jehovah's voice that speaks to cheer Judea's fainting soul!