A Sleep Song
How cool 'neath apple-bough embroideries
The lush grass here!
Lie down, and I will sit beside you, dear,
And take your tired head upon my knees.
The lush grass here!
Lie down, and I will sit beside you, dear,
And take your tired head upon my knees.
River-like round us noontide sun-flames fold,
And find our hair
Falling between the listless leaves up there—
Your short crisp curls seem carved of shining gold.
And find our hair
Falling between the listless leaves up there—
Your short crisp curls seem carved of shining gold.
Behind the troubled pallor of your face
What cruel thoughts throng?
Your curved lids, fringed with lashes thick and long,
Droop heavily—sleep, dream, a brief hour's space.
What cruel thoughts throng?
Your curved lids, fringed with lashes thick and long,
Droop heavily—sleep, dream, a brief hour's space.
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