Then the snowdrop sang a lullaby about the moss that loved the violet.
Down the room a low, mournful wail, almost a lullaby, went on and ceased not.
By that time the sounds of the tempest had become a lullaby to me.
So she sang another, a lullaby, that sank to its finish in flattering silence.
Oh, this capital knew the Dead March in Saul as a child knows his lullaby!
“Sing me to sleep, lullaby of the leaves”—the phonograph sang.
Now it was the lullaby of the song sparrow or the swamp sparrow.
And I remember, when tired with play, that her mother sang to us an old song, a lullaby.
"Any old crone's would serve as well for a lullaby," she answered, playfully.
I'll leave the doors open, and play you a lullaby that you can't resist.