  The storm beats loud, and you are far away, The night is wild, On distant fields of battle breaks the day, My little child? I sought to shield you from the least of ills In bygone years, I soothed with dreams of manhood’s far-off hills Your baby fears, But could not save you from the shock of strife; With radiant eyes You seized the sword and in the path of Life You sought your prize. The tempests rage, but you are fast asleep; Though winds be wild They cannot break your endless slumbers deep, My little child. |
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