Wherever you will go, I will let you down, But this lullaby goes on.
Therefore, she hummed the provincial lullaby she had learned from the officers’ children in the English Quarter of Jerusalem, and watched in fascination while the savage radical’s eyes misted over with tears. For an instant, the prison bars melted away, and she felt God’s presence—for the first time since their imprisonment. She was not a captive, and this man was not her captor. Indeed, they were both merely God’s children.
The night still bold The cold singing by The crickets on their turbo Ushering in a celestial night in beautiful robe For tonight he will wonder into a glorious quest of the night As he lay down his head, will the Angels guard him Good night and sweet dreams
