Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO A CHILD FALLING ASLEEP, by ROBERT ALDEN SANBORN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO A CHILD FALLING ASLEEP, by                    
First Line: Over the dim edge of sleep I lean
Last Line: Had laid the gift and breathed her childhood's prayer.
Subject(s): Children; Sleep; Childhood


Over the dim edge of sleep I lean,
And in her eyes' illimitable grey distances,
Look down into the shadow-tinted space, --
The cloudy air of sleep, --
To see the rose-lit petal of a Child's fair soul
Seek dreamily the farther gloom,
Where waking eyes may follow her no more.

One more last time her lids are lifted,
And in her look I read a wistful fare-thee-well;
Her spirit waves a twinkling white hand,
Her bark is out upon the sea of dream, --
The calm, grey sea, full and immovably established,
That drinks the river of my love, without o'erflowing,
Nor ever gives my image back to me.

When o'er the sun-swept land
Murmuring twilight spread her dusky tent,
A Stranger passed before our friendly sun, --
Between the dark and dawn, --
A Stranger whom we love but never see.
And as she came and cast her blue benignant shadow over all,
She set a silver trumpet to her lips,
And blew a note that thrilled in Children's hearts;
Because in little hearts the echo-fairies love to play,
Roaming the scented meadows there,
Where Love has been and sown the amaranthine flowers,
Out of whose pristine cups are born the singing stars.
And as the first free rainbow bubble sailed,
Launched by the Stranger with the silver pipe,
Upon the listening air;
As first the hollow note
Kissed the sweet lips and died of happiness,
The little Child unfurled her sails.

I stood there on the very verge of sleep,
And called to her,
And Love's own self had deigned to wait within my heart,
(Because I kept it always fit for Childish guests)
And would have given welcome had she stayed.
But then I saw the eyelids close,
And knew that Azrael who championed her soul,
Had shut the gates lest I should see
More than my life could bear.

Yet I had seen her go,
And sight no more could hold of Beauty's wine.
I had seen the fair face flush,
As the soft curtains of the tinted west,
Are drawn before the temple of the Night,
When the day-worn Sun has passed within;
Had seen the little body, whitely gowned,
Folded within its nest;
Had caught the last light kiss
Before the lips lay still;
And I had looked into the cool grey deep,
Where Sleep received the rose-leaf soul of her,
And bore it out upon her gentle waters.

Into the night I passed,
Where on the mellow bosom of the west,
Floated the flame-lit shell of Hesperus;
And as I stayed with hallowed breath,
The soul of fire fell over the rim of night:
And then I knew the soul of her I loved,
Had heard the last clear call,
The low Elysian chant of Hesperus,
And loving me had borne the love I gave,
Out and beyond and over all the ends of earth,
And where the altar flame of Venus burned,
Had laid the gift and breathed her Childhood's prayer.





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