HOPE, bending o'er me one time, snowed the flakes Of her white touches on my folded sight, And whispered, half rebukingly, "What makes My little girl so sorrowful to-night?" O scarce did I unclasp my lids, or lift Their tear-glued fringes, as with blind embrace I caught within my arms the mother-gift, And with wild kisses dappled all her face. That was a baby dream of long ago: My fate is fanged with frost, and tongued with flame: My woman-soul, chased naked through the snow, Stumbles and staggers on without an aim. And yet, here in my agony, sometimes A faint voice reaches down from some far height, And whispers through a glamouring of rhymes, -- "What makes my little girl so sad to-night?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BARNEY HAINSFEATHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE DIVINE IMAGE, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE SEA GYPSY [OR GIPSY] by RICHARD HOVEY SONNET: 3 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE OH, MOTHER DEAR! by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |