The darkness in the room is pregnant, seeming To fold about the boy who hides himself; And when his mother enters, as if dreaming, A glass is trembling on the quiet shelf. She feels that now her entrance is betrayed, And kisses her small boy: "Oh, you are there!" ... They glance at the piano where she played On many evenings the beloved air That strangely on the child its magic laid. He sits quite still. With wondering eyes he sees Her hand, weighed down beneath the ring, and slow, As if it walked against a gale through snow, Move on the snow-white keys. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE AND A QUESTION by ROBERT FROST THE BATTLE OF NASEBY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY PENITENTIAL PSALM: 130. DE PROFUNDIS by THOMAS WYATT THE COMBAT, BETWEENE CONSCIENCE AND COVETOUSNESSE by RICHARD BARNFIELD A SONG OF MARY by AGNES H. BEGBIE |