Oh mother, why are you weeping

When aLl the world's asleeping?

Rest ye, rest ye, mother,

I am near, dear, near.

Not beneath the moon-drenched grass

Do I turn to hear you pass—

You would see me walk beside you, if your eyes

saw dear.

Oh mother, why are you crying?

There was no loss in dying.

Rest ye, rest ye, mother,

Have no fear, no fear.

Still long hangs my golden hair,

But the body that I wear

Treads more kindly and more lightly, could you

hear, dear, hear.

She has stayed her eyes from weeping;

She is sleeping, sweetly sleeping.

Rest ye, weary mother,

I am here, dear, here.

Now the dawn-wind fans her cheek,

And she knows not that I speak—

But my arms are warm about her, could her eyes

see clear.