From The Birmingham Age Herald, April 3, 1914. By Anonymous.
The baby was sleeping, its mother was weeping,
For her husband was out on the wild raging sea;
And the tempest was swelling
Round the fisherman’s dwelling
And she cried, “Dermot, darling, O come back to me.”
Her beads while she numbered, the baby still slumbered,
And smiled in her face as she bended her knee;
O blessed be that warning,
My child thy sleep adorning
For I know that the Angels are whispering with thee.
And while they are keeping bright watch o’er thy sleeping,
O pray to them softly, my baby, with me;
And say thou would’st rather
They’d watch o’er thy father
For I know that the Angels are whispering with thee.
The dawn of the morning saw Dermot returning,
And the wife wept with joy her babe’s father to see;
And closely caressing
Her child with a blessing
Said, “I knew that the Angels were whispering with thee.”
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