Your cradle sways though none are near, The hearth burns low in dimming light. Your eyes once danced like starry skies, Now they drift beyond my sight. The neighbors whisper, "Say no word..." The elders bless themselves and sigh. They tell me those beneath the hill Can steal your child before your eyes. Come what may, my frail wee child, May flowers crown your golden hair. May sunlight warm your smiling face Beyond the reach of earthly cares. If fairy fields now call your name, And this pale child is left for me, Then laugh beneath the hawthorn's boughs— My heart shall follow after thee. At dawn I cross the lonely glen Where foxgloves bow beneath the rain. I fill my apron, praying still, To see my own sweet child again. The wise wife speaks the ancient words, "Let bitter leaves the truth reveal. The hidden folk will break their spell When holy faith and sorrow kneel." I hold the cup with trembling hands, And pray that God will hear my plea. The room falls still... the candles weep... For God alone can judge my soul. The cradle stands forever still. The wind now mourns where once you cried. Perhaps I lost you long before The day this fragile stranger died. So if you dance where bluebells bloom, Beyond the reach of cold and pain, I'll wait until Heaven calls me home, To hold you once again. Come what may, my frail wee child, May flowers crown your golden hair. May sunlight warm your smiling face Beyond the reach of grief and care. Whether earth or fairy land, No passing years undo my love. I'll keep your place beside the fire, Until Heaven calls me home...to you.
