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SLUMBER SONG
(The White Elf Mother sings.)

When the low flying wind, awake.
Brushes the lilies, and the low
Blue flowers hidden in the brake,—
When the sighing Alders bend and shake,—

When the owl 's whirring,—Hush thee, dear!
For all the elfin lights aglow
Will guide the slumber fairies here,
  Naught is stirring
  For my child to fear.

When the strange sighing tree-tops sing,
Dance all the fairies to and fro
And white dreams from their mantles fling,
  While the flying
  Winds thy cradle swing.

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