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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=390870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cornish Lullaby</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=390870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Out on the mountain over the town,<br> All night long, all night long,<br>The trolls go up and the trolls go down,<br> Bearing their packs and crooning a song;<br>And this is the song the hill-folk croon,<br>As they trudge in the light of the misty moon,--<br>This is ever their dolorous tune:<br>"Gold, gold! ever more gold,--<br> Bright red gold for dearie!"</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=390870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Deep in the hill the yeoman delves<br> All night long, all night long;<br>None but the peering, furtive elves<br> See his toil and hear his song;<br>Merrily ever the cavern rings<br>As merrily ever his pick he swings,<br>And merrily ever this song he sings:<br>"Gold, gold! ever more gold,--<br> Bright red gold for dearie!"</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=390870" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Mother is rocking thy lowly bed<br> All night long, all night long,<br>Happy to smooth thy curly head<br> And to hold thy hand and to sing her song;<br>'T is not of the hill-folk, dwarfed and old,<br>Nor the song of the yeoman, stanch and bold,<br>And the burden it beareth is not of gold;<br>But it's "Love, love!--nothing but love,--<br> Mother's love for dearie!"</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Eugene+Field">Eugene Field</a></strong></div>