Sway to and fro in the twilight gray,
  This is the ferry for Shadowtown;
It always sails at the end of day,
  Just as the darkness is closing down.

Rest, little head, on my shoulder, so;
  A sleepy kiss is the only fare,
Drifting away from the world we go,
  Baby and I in the rocking chair.

See, where the fire-logs glow and spark,
  Glitter the lights of the Shadowland;
The winter rain in the window -- hark!
  Are ripples lapping upon its strand.

There, where the mirror is glancing dim,
  A lake lies shimmering, cool and still;
Blossoms are waving above its brim --
  Those over there on the window-sill.

Rock slow, more slow, in the dusky light;
  Silently lower the anchor down.
Dear little passenger say, "Good night," 
  We've reached the harbor of Shadowtown.