Author Topic: It's a sappy poem  (Read 2648 times)

Discounted Girl

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It's a sappy poem
« on: March 01, 2004, 02:24:30 AM »
I know it's long, but I feel prompted to post one of my favorite poems. It describes what I wish my relationship with my mother had been. When earthly days are done, the mother longed for by this little girl would be described like the one in this verse.  :(

Rock Me to Sleep
 
BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,  
Make me a child again just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;  
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;  
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!  
   
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!  
I am so weary of toil and of tears,
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,  
Take them, and give me my childhood again!  
I have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;  
Weary of sowing for others to reap;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!  
   
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,  
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!  
Many a summer the grass has grown green,  
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,  
Long I to-night for your presence again.  
Come from the silence so long and so deep;  
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!  
   
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;  
No other worship abides and endures,
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:  
None like a mother can charm away pain  
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;  
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!  
   
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,  
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;  
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;  
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more  
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;  
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;  
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!
   
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long  
Since I last listened your lullaby song:  
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem  
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.  
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,  
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;  
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Elizabeth (Akers) Allen
1832 - 1911