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" Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep... "
Song Book of the Harvard Club of San Francisco - Page 61
by Harvard Club of San Francisco (Calif.) - 1909 - 117 lehte
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The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me: While my little...silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty cue, sleep, [From The Princess.] ASK ME NO MOKE. ASK me no more: the moon may draw the sea; The cloud...
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Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 28. köide

American Academy of Arts and Sciences - 1893 - 482 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me : While my little...Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep." From the lyrics we pass to an even more important part of Tennyson's work, to what our fathers might...
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Southern Literary Messenger, 19. köide

1853 - 842 lehte
...to lliee soon, Rest, rest on mothers breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to hi» babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west, Under the silver moon, Sleep my little one, «Itep my pretty one, sleep. Everybody who has read the Pickwick Papers (and \vho has not r) must remember...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1850 - 196 lehte
...low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dropping moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little...Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. III. MOKN in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1851 - 422 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me : While my little...rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Best, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the...
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Thalatta: A Book for the Sea-side

Samuel Longfellow - 1853 - 228 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go ; Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little...Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. ALFRED TENNYSON, THE MARINER. YE winds that sweep the grove's green tops And kiss the mountains hoar,...
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Thalatta: A Book for the Sea-side

Samuel Longfellow - 1853 - 228 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go ; Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little...will come to thee soon, Father will come to his babe in»the nest : Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep,...
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Poems, 2. köide

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1853 - 468 lehte
...Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little...rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; B«st, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in...
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The Southern literary messenger, 19. köide

1853 - 800 lehte
...blow, Blow him again to me, While my pretty one, while my pretty one sleeps. Sleep and rest, pleep nnd rest, Father will come to thee soon, Rest, rest on mother's breast, Father will cnme to thee soon; Fnther will come In his babe in the nest, Stiver sails all out of the west, 1853.]...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1854 - 216 lehte
...while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Best, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee...Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. III. MORN in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and...
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