| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 210. At Even |
| | | By Frederic Manning |
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| HUSH ye! Hush ye! My babe is sleeping. | |
| Hush, ye winds, that are full of sorrow! | |
| Hush, ye rains, from your weary weeping! | |
| Give him slumber until to-morrow. | |
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| Hush ye, yet! In the years hereafter, | 5 |
| Surely sorrow is all his reaping; | |
| Tears shall be in the place of laughter, | |
| Give him peace for a while in sleeping. | |
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| Hush ye, hush! he is weak and ailing: | |
| Send his mother his share of weeping. | 10 |
| Hush ye, winds, from your endless wailing; | |
| Hush ye, hush ye, my babe is sleeping! | |
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