Sleep, O my babe, not thine a manger Where cradled lies thy helpless head; No oxen low, dear little stranger, And wondering stare above thy bed; Thou needst not weep, Ah, slumber deep, For fond hearts wake while thou dost sleep, And light as dews shed from the skies Love shuts the violets of thine eyes; Not in a stall Love's kisses all As soft as rose-leaves on thee fall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CARGO MOVING TO GAZA (1988) by MARVIN BELL THEY ACCUSE ME OF NOT TALKING by HAYDEN CARRUTH DRIVING INTO LARAMIE by JAMES GALVIN TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS |