Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ANNIE: MY CHILD LOVER, by JOHN LAURENCE RENTOUL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ANNIE: MY CHILD LOVER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Let me gently climb the stair
Last Line: And god speak not a word to chide.
Alternate Author Name(s): Gage, Gervais
Subject(s): Children - Lost; Girls; Rest; Silence; Sleep


I

LET me gently climb the stair,
And look in on the sleeper there!
She is very still to-day
That was erst so blithe and gay.
Heart so light and face so fair,
How is the laughter fled away!
There is no sound or stir of play.

II

I have seen her romping so
Round this room with face aglow:
It seems scarce an hour ago.
Music sweet did trilling come
From those lips too mutely dumb.
Is she plotting mischief deep,
Deep and sly?
Or is this the silent sleep,
That close closing of the eye
Over which poor Eve did weep,
In a mother's woe,
When her Abel mute did lie,
Long ago,
And a man had learned to die?

III

I have called her, "Annie, come!"
As in days agone;
But from out her lips too dumb
Breaks not any tone.
Such wonders God has made her see
She does not care to answer me,
Although she loveth tenderly?
Such new delights her heart surprise
The old seem common in her eyes?
Is it so?
Or why not speak one word, albeit faint and low?
She does not care to rise and play
In this lower room;
She will not answer me to-day
Though I urge her, "Come!"

IV

O, the little tired heart
Not again shall leap or start
In mortal pain:
Not again!
And the little feet no more
Shall come tired to the door!
And the hail no more shall beat
On her face adown the street,
Nor the rain:
Not again!
Very peaceful, very fair
Lies the little sleeper there!

V

O, the breath of violet!
Tears must spring, I know not why.
Look, the bunch her own hand set
In that vase the rose hard by!
They too droop and haste to die,
No more glad for company
And bright in the glance of her bright eye.
Look, the lilies lie at rest,
Rise not, fall not, on her breast:
Nay, the breast itself is still,
And the rose-red lips all pale and chill!

VI

Why dost whisper, why dost creep
Round her stilly, why dost weep
That she wakes not? O, this sleep
Of this sleeper, friends, is deep!

VII

Sleeper, sleep!—
Speech thy lips forsaking.
God shuts out the garish light
Of Earth's transient sun,
All the windows closing
For thy calm reposing,
And the day is done.
God shall wake thee pure and strong,
O, sleep soundly, night is long:
But, when dawn is breaking,
O, the strange sweet morning song
And the wondrous waking!

VIII

Sleeper, sleep!
All thy being full of rest,
All thy thinkings unexprest,
Calm in all thy brain and breast,
Sleeper, sleep!

IX

But, O Annie, we alone,
Just we two, and none beside,
When the great gates toward the throne,
Where you'll meet me, open wide,—
O, we two will turn aside
By the river of Life where the trees can hide,
And talk and gaze till eventide,
And see naught else till eventide,
Though the streets in their glory lie full wide.
The Angels will smile all satisfied
With Love by death indemnified,
And God speak not a word to chide.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net