Three Songs of the East

The moon, and the stars are none so shy as thou;
Cold is thy heart, O Love, for thou heedest not my cry!
Sadly I want for a sight of thee, 
Beneath thy lattice, lone and drear.
Pity is a stranger to thy breast;
Love kindles anger there;
Despair, a smile: 
Cold is thy heart, O love, for thou heedest my cry.
Ah!

Sleep, baby, sleep! the Mother sings: 
Heaven's angels kneel and fold their wings. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

With swathes of scented hay Thy bed 
By Mary's hand at eve was spread. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

At midnight came the shepherds, they 
Whom seraphs wakened by the way. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

And three kings from the East afar 
Ere dawn came guided by Thy star. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

They brought Thee gifts of gold and gems, 
Pure orient pearls, rich diadems. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

 ...  Thou who liest slumbering there, 
Art King of Kings, earth, ocean, air. 
Sleep, baby, sleep! 

Sleep, baby, sleep! the shepherds sing: 
Through heaven, through earth, hosannas ring. 
Sleep, baby, sleep.

From my garden I hear a woman singing;
But in sprite of her, I gaze on the moon.

...
...
...

And I believe that the moon looks at me also;
For a long silver ray penetrates to my eyes.

I have never thought of meeting the woman
Who sings in the neighboring garden;
My gaze ever follows the moon in the heavens.

The moon mirrors herself in the eyes of poets,
As in the brilliant wyes of the dragons,
The poets of the sea.
From my garden, I hear a woman singing.