HOPE, bending o'er me one time, snowed the flakes Of her white touches on my folded sight, And whispered, half rebukingly, "What makes My little girl so sorrowful to-night?" O scarce did I unclasp my lids, or lift Their tear-glued fringes, as with blind embrace I caught within my arms the mother-gift, And with wild kisses dappled all her face. That was a baby dream of long ago: My fate is fanged with frost, and tongued with flame: My woman-soul, chased naked through the snow, Stumbles and staggers on without an aim. And yet, here in my agony, sometimes A faint voice reaches down from some far height, And whispers through a glamouring of rhymes, -- "What makes my little girl so sad to-night?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND by THOMAS MOORE OLD WAR-DREAMS by WALT WHITMAN MOUNT SINAI by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 35 by THOMAS CAMPION AN UNSUSPECTED FACT by EDWARD CANNON DAVIDEIS, A SACRED POEM OF THE TROUBLES OF DAVID: BOOK 2 by ABRAHAM COWLEY THE DYING GIRL'S MESSAGE by ELIZABETH LUMMIS FRIES ELLETT |