Poems (Barrett)/Sleeping and Watching
Sleeping and Watching.
Sleep on, baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing,—Sleep with smile the sweeter for That, you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness, stand Golden lights serenely—One cheek, pushed out by the hand Folds the dimple inly: Little head and little foot Heavy laid for pleasure, Underneath the lids half-shut, Slants the shining azure;— Open-souled in noonday sun, So, you lie and slumber! Nothing evil, having done, Nothing can encumber.
I, who cannot sleep as well, Shall I sigh to view you? Or sigh further to foretell All that may undo you? Nay, keep smiling, little child, Ere the sorrow neareth,—I will smile too! Patience mild Pleasure's token weareth. "Nay, keep sleeping, before loss; I shall sleep though losing! As by cradle, so by cross, Sure is the reposing.
And God knows, who sees us twain, Child at childish leisure, I am near as tired of pain As you seem of pleasure;—Very soon too, by His grace Gently wrapt around me, Shall I show as calm a face, Shall I sleep as soundly! Differing in this that you Clasp your playthings sleeping, While my hand shall drop the few Given to my keeping;
Differing in this, that I Sleeping, shall be colder, And in waking presently, Brighter to beholder! Differing in this beside (Sleeper, have you heard me? Do you move, and open wide Eyes of wonder toward me?)—That while I, you, draw withal From your slumber, solely,—Me, from mine, an angel shall, With reveillie holy!