Dora Sigerson Shorter

“ O, the years flew in passing in peace and in rest,
And I watched my young son as he leaped and he ran,
O, proud was my heart as I dreamed me a dream,
I would wed him to fortune when he grew a man. ”

“ The wind on the window it calls in its play.
“O, little one, little one, hush you and sleep,
'Tis the song of the wind and the cry of the sea.”
“O, gran'father, gran'father, when may I go?
'Tis the voice of poor Grannia Wael calling to me.
“O, your path will be rough and your prison bed hard,
Your heart will be broken, your cheek will grow pale,
You will die on the gallows when life is yet young,
If you list to the singing of old Grannia Wael.” ”