Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Dream GiftFrances Shaw
R
Softly she sings and weaves for thee,
Swift are her fingers over thy head,
Filmy and fine is the shining thread.
Sleep, my babe, while I weave and spin
A little dream to wrap thee in.
Shadow and gleam in the warp she twines:
So shall the garment, when it is done,
Shield thee from cold and from the sun.
Sleep, my babe, while I weave and spin
A little dream to wrap thee in.
Thy mother broiders with them all:
A fragrance to the mantle clings
Which thou shalt bear at court of kings.
Sleep, my babe, while I weave and spin
A little dream to wrap thee in.
Bright wings have swept across the loom:
Thy trailing raiment this shall be
When back to heaven they welcome thee.
Sleep, my babe, while I weave and spin
A little dream to wrap thee in.