August, 1916 ÉMILE CAMMAERTS @3Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep, Baby soon will be asleep.@1 The fire dwindles and the wind moans, The rain lashes the window-panes. ... Is it raining and blowing there? Hailing or thundering, perhaps? @3Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep. ...@1 Is he well? Is he warm? Is he lacking naught? Has he all he wants? His coat, his matches, and his gloves, And, in his pocket, next his heart, My last letter And all its love? @3Baby soon will be asleep. ...@1 The lamp burns low, the fire dwindles. We shall have to go to bed. The child is clasping its wee fists. ... Is my big child sleeping too? Sleeping peacefully before the battle? Is he running madly Through the shells? Or is he lying in some hole, With open mouth and with closed eyes? @3Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep. ...@1 The child moans and the wind swells the curtains, The wick splutters, The child turns in its cot, The rain ceases, the night shivers, The sadness of it is fearful. ... @3Baby soon will be asleep. ...@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GARDEN WIRELESS by CARL SANDBURG LITTLE BROWN BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SCUM O' THE EARTH' by ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER A PRAYER FOR A VERY NEW ANGEL by VIOLET ALLEYN STOREY THE SOLITUDE OF SPACE by FLORA CECILE ALLISON LIFE'S LITTLE DAY by MARY BALL ARMSTRONG THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 101. AGE: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |