TAKE me up, to put me down In the fields of Long Ago, Where my mother's holiday gown Always made me think of snow. Set me at her side again, Little taller than her knee, On my mouth a cherry-stain— @3Thank you, thank you, Memory!@1 Grant the mother and the child There to search in singing hope Strawberries sweet by being wild All along the hillside slope. Make the brother streamlets rush Bright as comets to the sea, Warbling almost like a thrush— @3Thank you, thank you, Memory!@1 Comes again the Enchanter's wood, Loved by me afraid to love, Where as still as mice we stood listening for the drowsy dove. Never shall my heart forget Mingled fear and lullaby, Laughing lips and lashes wet— @3Thank you, thank you, Memory!@1 But the dragon! seeming true Most because he never came Hungry in the oaks and threw Double tongues of yard-long flame! Not to know themselves at all, This is children's destiny; Late in life the veilings fall, Showing childhood, Memory. Up the hillside in the sun, Past the home and garden-place, Past my little self I run, Till I kiss my mother's face. Was it thus she took the light Long ago in summer glee, Lovelier than a star at night?— @3Thank you, thank you, Memory!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A WATERFOWL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT VERSES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM OF A LADY'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK by THOMAS MOORE THE FIFTEEN ACRES by JAMES STEPHENS THE SICK KING IN BOKHARA by MATTHEW ARNOLD MONODY TO THE SOUND OF ZITHERS by KAY BOYLE UNDER THE TREES by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH MY SON'S SON TO HIS SON'S SON - PERHAPS by MABEL RUTHERFORD BRIDGES |