The Cradle

In the cradle of the night,
Moonbeams weave through the trees,
A gentle whisper, a tale, a slight,
Love’s sweet breath in the evening breeze.

See the river, softly flowing,
Where shadows dance upon its breast;
With dreams and thoughts of love all knowing,
The hearts of creatures find their rest.

O let us linger and abide,
In the arms of a starlit sea,
For in the night’s embrace we ride,
On the waves of eternity.

• William Blake