Sleep, sleep, sleep! All nature now is steeping Her sons in sleep,--their eyelids close, All living things in sweet repose Are sleeping, sleeping. Sleep, baby, sleep! Peace o'er thee watch be keeping, If from my bosom thou art torn, Low in the grave I'll lie forlorn, Sleeping, ah, sleeping. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WOMAN'S ANSWER by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER THE VACANT CAGE (1) by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER TO AMERICA, ON HER FIRST SONS FALLEN IN THE GREAT WAR by E. M. WALKER HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS: TROY by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 6 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |