WHERE the golden, glowing Champak-buds are blowing, By the swiftly-flowing streams, Now, when day is dying, There are fairies flying Scattering a cloud of dreams. Slumber-spirits winging Thro' the forest singing, Flutter hither bringing soon, Baby-visions sheeny For my Sunalini ... Hush thee, O my pretty moon! Sweet, the saints shall bless thee ... Hush, mine arms caress thee, Hush, my heart doth press thee, sleep, Till the red dawn dances Breaking thy soft trances, Sleep, my Sunalini, sleep! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER'S HOPE by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD WHY I LOVE HER by ALEXANDER BROME COLUMBUS AT THE CONVENT [JULY, 1491] by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY; DOMESTIC LEGEND OF THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A DREAM AND A SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE END OF A TUNE by ELIZABETH BROWN (AUSTRALIAN) |