Over the cradle the mother hung, Softly crooning a slumber-song; And these were the simple words she sung All the evening long: "Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee, Where shall the baby's dimple be? Where shall the angel's finger rest When he comes down to the baby's nest? Where shall the angel's touch remain When he awakens my babe again?" Still as she bent and sang so low, A murmur into her music broke; And she paused to hear, for she could but know The baby's angel spoke. "Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee, Where shall the baby's dimple be? Where shall my finger fall and rest When I come down to the baby's nest? Where shall my finger's touch remain When I awaken your babe again?" Silent the mother sat, and dwelt Long in the sweet delay of choice; And then by her baby's side she knelt, And sang with pleasant voice: "Not on the limb, O angel dear! For the charm with its youth will disappear; Not on the cheek shall the dimple be, For the harboring smile will fade and flee; But touch thou the chin with an impress deep, And my baby the angel's seal shall keep." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CROSS OF SNOW by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE QUAKER WIDOW by BAYARD TAYLOR TO CHLOE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A WINTER PIECE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WHY DID YOU DEPART AT DUSK? by CLARISSA M. BAILEY JENNIE HARRIS OLIVER by THERESA DRULEY BLACK |