ONCE upon a time she'd take me-- Take me in her arms each night; Softly croon a song of slumber, Bid me close my eyes so tight; For she said: "The Sandman's coming!" Then I knew I must beware, Lest he catch me with them open, As we rocked in that old chair. Long that's been; I'm worn and weary, And I would that I could rest With her arms entwined around me, And my head upon her breast. She would croon to me so softly, And she'd gently stroke my hair; While I'd drift away to Dreamland, Rocked to sleep in that old chair. But that chair has long been empty-- Where it is I do not know; And the songs she sang so sweetly, Were forgotten long ago. But to-night I feel her presence-- Seem to see her face so fair, And to hear her softly crooning In that old, old rocking-chair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHURCH-MUSICK [CHURCH MUSIC] by GEORGE HERBERT SONG OF A SECOND APRIL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY EPISTLE TO MISS TERESA BLOUNT, ON HER LEAVING THE TOWN by ALEXANDER POPE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 123 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A SONG OF THE WESTERN EDEN by HOPE S. BARBER TO A NEW YORK SHOP-GIRL DRESSED FOR SUNDAY by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH POOR CHILD by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |