Old as were the words, the melody was older-so old and quaint and sweet that it seemed a berceuse fashioned to soothe the drowsing centuries, lest the memories of ancient wrongs awake and rouse the very dead from their Gothic tombs.
"The Maids of Paradise"
Robert W. (Robert William) Chambers
Now Jack was playing the Chopin berceuse, and all the world seemed lulling to sleep; the sound floated in waves through the darkened room, whispering in corners, rippling round the drowsy child, bearing him on, away, through the gates of pearl, till now he was asleep, in no heavy lethargy this time, but lying easily, breathing deeply, his whole little form at rest, at peace.
"Hildegarde's Harvest"
Laura E. Richards
In the schoolroom at her father's, which had pretty blue curtains, she had been making out at the piano a lovely little thing, as Mrs. Beale called it, a "Moonlight berceuse" sent her through the post by Sir Claude, who considered that her musical education had been deplorably neglected and who, the last months at her mother's, had been on the point of making arrangements for regular lessons.
"What Maisie Knew"
Henry James