Drowsing, the other afternoon, I lay In that sweet interlude that falls between Waking and sleeping, when all being is seen Of one complexion, and the vague dreams play Among the thoughts, and the thoughts go astray Among the dreams. My mother, who has been Dead almost half my life, appeared to lean Above me, a boy, in a house far away, That once was home, and all the troubled years That have been since were as if they were not. The voices that are hushed were in my ears, The looks and motions that I had forgot Were in my eyes; and they disowned the tears That now again beneath their lids are hot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JILTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE GIFT by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL |