THE cradle I have made for thee Is carved of orient ivory, And curtained round with wavy silk More white than hawthorn-bloom or milk. A twig of box, a lilac spray, Will drive the goblin-horde away; And charm thy childlike heart to keep Her happy dream and virgin sleep. Within that pure and fragrant nest, I'll rock thy gentle soul to rest, With tender songs we need not fear To have a passing angel hear. Ah, long and long I fain would hold The snowy curtain's guardian fold Around thy crystal visions, born In clearness of the early morn. But look, the sun is glowing red With triumph in his golden bed; Aurora's virgin whiteness dies In crimson glory of the skies. The rapid flame will burn its way Through these white curtains, too, one day; The ivory cradle will be left Undone, and broken, and bereft. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE MILE END ROAD by AMY LEVY OVERTONES by WILLIAM ALEXANDER PERCY ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT by JONATHAN SWIFT TO CYNTHIA GONE INTO THE COUNTRY by PHILIP AYRES E.W.T.: ON THE DEATH OF HIS BETTY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SORDELLO: BOOK 2 by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: THE NORTH SEA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |