IT was her wont when, tired of play, He to her bosom crept, With golden hair in disarray, To kiss him as he slept. And still her plea would be but this: "I shall not wake him with a kiss!" So heavenly-sweet his sleeping face-- So beautiful and bright, I know the angels lift the lace To kiss my boy good-night! For still he smiles in dreams of bliss: "How should I wake him with a kiss?" So did his mother say; and when God whispered His sweet will, She only moaned: "He sleeps!" and then, Kneeling, she kissed him still. And weeping, murmured only this: "I can not wake him with a kiss!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAPPER KAPLINSKI AT THE NORTH SIDE CUE CLUB by HAYDEN CARRUTH ETERNITY BLUES by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL CAPUT MORTUUM by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY by ROBERT FROST EVENING HYMN by REGINALD HEBER |