Poems (Meynell, 1921)/Cradle-Song at Twilight
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
CRADLE-SONG AT TWILIGHT
THE child not yet is lulled to rest.
Too young a nurse, the slender Night
So laxly holds him to her breast
That throbs with flight.
He plays with her, and will not sleep.
For other playfellows she sighs;
An unmaternal fondness keep
Her alien eyes.