A Child Asleep |
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) |
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How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more-- Sleeping near the withered nosegay, which he pulled the day before. Nosegays! leave them for the waking: Throw them earthward where they grew. Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto-- Folded eyes see brighter colours than the open ever do. Heaven-flowers, rayed by shadows golden From the paths they sprang beneath, Now perhaps divinely holden, Swing against him in a wreath-- We may think so from the quickening of his bloom and of his breath. |
