To you, O infant of my midnight thought! I sing this tender, tense, parental song, While to my sleep-deserted chamber throng Old memories, nocturnal and unsought. What wonder that my mind is overwrought? For, oh! your ceaseless voice is overstrong, And my cold-footed pilgrimage is long. Come, baby—darn it! Shut up as you ought. In fancy I recall those graceless years Before your darling mamma made me hers, Till in my heart the pulse of sorrow stirs, And makes me half inclined to ape your tears. Confound it! Sleep! Stop yelling if you can! Ah, well, some day you 'll be a married man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAGDALEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BALLAD MADE AT THE REQUEST OF HIS MOTHER .. PRAY TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON THE FUTURE LIFE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT CHURCHILL'S GRAVE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |