Little gold head, my house's candle, You will guide all wayfarers that walk this country. Little soft mouth that my breast has known, Mary will kiss you as she passes. Little round cheek, O smoother than satin, Iosa will lay His hand upon you. Mary's kiss on my baby's mouth. Christ's little hand on my darling's cheek! House, be still, and ye little gray mice, Lie close to-night in your hidden lairs Moths on the window, fold your wings, Little black chafers, silence your humming. Plover and curlew fly not over my house, Do not speak, wild barnacle, passing over this mountain. Things of the mountain that wake in the night time, Do not stir to-night till the daylight whitens. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...F. DE SAMARA TO A.G.A. by EMILY JANE BRONTE FANCIES AT NAVESINK: 2 by WALT WHITMAN WILD PLUM BLOSSOMS by EVA K. ANGLESBURG ON THE KING'S ILLNESS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AN EVENING PRAYER by BERNARD BARTON THE TWO FIRES by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |