My mother groaned, my father wept: Into the dangerous world I leapt, Helpless, naked, piping loud, Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father's hands, Striving against my swaddling-bands, Bound and weary, I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN AT AN INN AT HENLEY by WILLIAM SHENSTONE ITYLUS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE AT THE FUNERAL OF A MINOR POET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH STANZAS IN THE MEMORY OF EDWARD QUILLINAN, ESQ. by MATTHEW ARNOLD SLEEPING AND WAKING by JANE BARLOW THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: 1 by WILLIAM BASSE THE RED SUNSETS, 1883 (1) by MATHILDE BLIND |