Hope of my heart, in thy cradle reposing, Spare her who bore thee and brought thee to life; Tired out and weary she sits by thy cradle, To sing thee to sleep counts nothing too wearing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH ODE TO THE BROWN PAPER BAG by JAMES GALVIN TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN PENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PRAYER AT SUNRISE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |