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(naJDa)
The storm shall not wake thee
Ah weary wee flipperling
Curl at thy ease
Where billow meets billow
At rest in the hollows
That rustle between
The moon o'er the combers
And black are the waters
That sparkled so green
Oh hush thee my baby
The night is behind us
Looks downward to find us
There soft be thy pillow
Nor shark overtake thee
