Lo, in the west A cloud at rest-- A babe upon its mother's breast Is sleeping now. Above it beams A star that seems To shed the light of holy dreams Upon its brow. But cloud and star, Tho' nearer far They seem, my babe, more distant are From Heaven than thou. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT DO I CARE by SARA TEASDALE MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: JUNE by EDMUND SPENSER CASSANDRA SOUTHWICK; 1658 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |