Read "Nightfall in Dordrecht" by Eugene Field online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
THE mill goes toiling slowly around / With steady and solemn creak, / And my little one hears in the kindly sound / The voice of the old mill speak; / While round and round those big white wings / Grimly and ghostlike creep, / My little one hears that the old mill sings, / "Sleep, little tulip, sleep!"
The sails are reefed and the nets are drawn, / And over his pot of beer / The fisher, against the morrow's dawn, / Lustily maketh cheer; / He mocks at the winds that caper along / From the far-off, clamorous deep, / But we -- we love their lullaby-song / Of "Sleep, little tulip, sleep!"