Des branches, des branches, des branches Pour tresser un pavillon, Par où des clartés moins franches Descendront sur l’oisillon. Des branches! Des songes, des songes, des songes Dans ses pensers entr’ ouverts Glissez un peu de mensonges A voir le vie au travers Des songes! Des fées, des fées, des fées, Pour filer leurs écheveaux Des mirages, de bouffées Dans tous ces petits cerveaux. Des fées. Des anges, des anges, des anges Pour emporter dans l’éther Les petits enfants étranges Qui ne veulent pas rester ... Nos anges! COMTE ROBERT DE MONTESQUIOU-FEZENSAC, _Les Hortensias Bleus_. THE SHADOW LULLABY. Oh forms, oh forms, oh forms White, blue, and gold, and red Descending from the elm trees, On sleeping baby’s head. Oh forms! Oh feathers, feathers, feathers To make a cosy nest. Twelve striking: stops the clamour; The anvils are at rest ... Oh feathers! Oh roses, roses, roses To scent his sleep awhile, Pale are your fragrant petals Beside his ruby smile. Oh roses! Oh wings, oh wings, oh wings Of bees and dragon-flies, To hum around his forehead, And lull him with your sighs. Oh wings! Branches, branches, branches A shady bower to twine, Through which, oh daylight, family Descend on birdie mine. Branches! Oh dreams, oh dreams, oh dreams Into his opening mind, Let in a little falsehood With sights of life behind. Dreams! Oh fairies, fairies, fairies, To twine and twist their threads With puffs of phantom visions Into these little heads. Fairies! Angels, angels, angels To the ether far away, Those children strange to carry That here don’t wish to stay ... Our angels! Footnote 92: