Charles Ives - Cradle-Song
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Hush thee, dear child to slumbers;
We will sing softest numbers;
Nought thy sleeping encumbers
Summer is slowly dying;
Autumnal winds are sighing;
Faded leaflets are flying
Brightly the willows quiver;
Peacefully flows the river;
So shall love flow forever
We will sing softest numbers;
Nought thy sleeping encumbers
Summer is slowly dying;
Autumnal winds are sighing;
Faded leaflets are flying
Brightly the willows quiver;
Peacefully flows the river;
So shall love flow forever