Poem by Alice Meynell

Cradle-Song at Twilight

THE child not yet is lulled to rest.
    Too young a nurse, the slender Night 
So laxly holds him to her breast
    That throbs with flight.

He plays with her, and will not sleep.
    For other playfellows she sighs; 
An unmaternal fondness keep
    Her alien eyes.

1. Beyond Knowledge
2. The Two Poets
3. A Poet's Wife
4. To Any Poet
5. “I Am the Way”

Print

1318 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version