Words by Rudyard Kipling, Music by Eric Whitacre
Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks down to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, then soft by thy pillow;
Oh, weary wee flipperling, curl at the ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.