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.
poem by Alice Meynell
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Related quotes
Bat
IN broad daylight
He should not be:
Yet toward and froward,
Froward and toward
He weaves a flight.
Who will guide him back to his cave,
A little Bat astray,
Where he'll rest on the breast of night,
Away from day's bright miscreation?
The linnet throbs through the air,
The magpie coquettes with day,
The rook caws 'Time to be gone,'
And travels on;
While toward and froward,
Froward and toward,
The Bat ... a fathom
Of flight . . . weaves.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Lullaby To An Anxious Child
Hush child,
Let your mommy sleep into the night until we rise
Hush child,
Let me soothe the shining tears that gather in your eyes
Hush child,
I won't leave I'll stay with you to cross this Bridge of Sighs
Hush child,
I can help the look of accusation in your eyes
In your eyes
The world is broken and now
All in sorrow
Wise men hang their heads
Hush child,
Let your mommy sleep into the night until we rise
Hush child,
All the strength I'll need to find, I'll find inside your eyes
In your eyes
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good-Night
THE lark is silent in his nest,
The breeze is sighing in its flight,
Sleep, Love, and peaceful be thy rest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sweet dreams' attend thee in thy sleep,
To soothe thy rest till morning's light,
And angels round thee vigil keep.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sleep well, my love, on night's dark breast,
And ease thy soul with slumber bright;
Be joy but thine and I am blest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The nurse was like a mother to him
He could not speak,
He could not move
Kept lying
On the hospital bed
With eager eyes
Kept looking at the door
He was waiting
For the nurse to arrive
His face lit up
When he saw the nurse
Greeted her with a big smile
How are you?
And good morning she said
To show his happiness
He giggled a bit
And looked into her eyes
His eyes got wet
As if he got
everything he wanted
The nurse was like
a mother to him
He was like a child to her
Did everything
what a child needed
Love and care she provided
Never did he felt
The absence of his mother
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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A Child
A child,
Curious and innocent,
Slips from his Nurse, and rejoicing
Loses himself in the Fair.
Thro' the jostle and din
Wandering, he revels,
Dreaming, desiring, possessing;
Till, of a sudden
Tired and afraid, he beholds
The sordid assemblage
Just as it is; and he runs
With a sob to his Nurse
(Lighting at last on him),
And in her motherly bosom
Cries him to sleep.
Thus thro' the World,
Seeing and feeling and knowing,
Goes Man: till at last,
Tired of experience, he turns
To the friendly and comforting breast
Of the old nurse, Death.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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To Sleep
Ah, Sleep, to me thou com'st not in the guise
Of one who brings good gifts to weary men,
Balm for bruised hearts and fancies alien
To unkind truth, and drying for sad eyes.
I dread the summons to that fierce assize
Of all my foes and woes, that waits me when
Thou mak'st my soul the unwilling denizen
Of thy dim troubled house where unrest lies.
My soul is sick with dreaming, let it rest.
False Sleep, thou hast conspired with Wakefulness,
I will not praise thee, I too long beguiled
With idle tales. Where is thy soothing breast ?
Thy peace, thy poppies, thy forgetfulness ?
Where is thy lap for me so tired a child ?
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Ode To Sleep
Gentle divinity, how have I merited?
Whither, unfortunate wretch, have I strayed,
Thus of thy bounty to lie disenherited -
I alone whilst every other is paid?
Sleeping are cattle and birds without number,
Beasts of the wilderness rest in their lair;
Even the hills, as if weary, feign slumber,
Even the torment sighs soft in the air.
Lulled are the shuttering waves of the ocean,
Seas in the lap of the land lie at peace.
Only for me in monotonous motion
Day follows day, and there comes no release.
Moonlight & starlight & light of the morning
Seven times flit o'er my feverish cheek.
Once again Dawn's chilly hand offers warning.
Whither, oh whither for rest shall I seek?
Had I the eyes of an Argus, nor heeded
Ever to keep my whole body awake -
Half of the sentries alone being needed -
Still I could never my slumber-thirst slake.
Yet - if there's one in the arms of a lover
Scornful of sleep and the joy that sleep brings,
Come thou to me! I'll not ask thee to cover
My eyes with the fullest extant of thy wings
Happier suitors may sue for such blessing,
I'll beg a touch, be it ever so slight,
Of thy wand, or a whisk of thy garment caressing
My eyelids to droop as it crosses the night.
poem by Pablius Papinius Statius
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Nighttime Envy
I spend most nights
envious
until the wee hours of morn;
watching
the subtle changes of your face
as you are mentally carried
from one dreamscape
to another.
Did you know I want to sleep like you do?
If only I could sleep like you do…
I lie here each night
jealous
through the darkened hours,
listening
to noises which accompany sleep;
your mumbled words,
your slow intake of breath,
your sighs.
I wish I could sleep like you do. Eh?
If only I could sleep like you do…
I stay here beside you
desirous
of the rest you find with ease.
Until, Finally!
As the sun peeks above the earth,
my eyes leaden with sleep
and, At Last! , I too
am allowed to dream.
poem by Jennifer ParksNolan as LeJenD'Poet
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A Fisherman's Baby
Oh hush, little baby, thy papa's at sea;
The big billows rock him as mamma rocks thee.
He hastes to his dear ones o'er billows of foam;
Then sleep, little darling, till papa comes home.
Sleep, little baby; hush, little baby;
Papa is coming, no longer to roam.
The shells and the pebbles, all day tossed about,
Are lulled into sleep by the tide ebbing out.
The tired shore slumbers, stretched out in the sand,
While the waves hurry off at mid-ocean's command.
Then hush, little darling; sleep, little darling;
Sleep, baby, rocked by thy mother's own hand.
The winds that have rollicked all day in the west
Are hushed into sleep on the calm evening's breast.
The boats that were out with the wild sea at play
Are now rocked to sleep in the arms of the bay.
Then rest, little baby; sleep, little baby;
Papa will come at the break of the day.
Sleep, little darling; too soon thou wilt be
A man like thy father, to sail o'er the sea.
Then sleep will not come at thy bidding or prayer,
For thou wilt be harassed by danger and care.
Then sleep, little darling; rest, little baby;
Rest whilst thou may, dear, and sleep whilst thou dare.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Mother Doorstep
Unto the Person kind there came
A young girl bearing her fruit of shame:
She fell and it had to pay the price -
Innocent Lamb of Sacrifice!
Lovingly then the Person smiled,
Gazing upon the face of the child;
Smiled like an ogress - 'Don't despond! -
I am of children all too fond.'
Then said the mother, speaking low,
Kissing the babe she had born in woe:
'Treat him tenderly-nurse him well.'
Hotly the tears on the baby fell.
Taking the mother's coin with a leer
Ogress remarked: 'Don't cry, my dear,
Motherly persons to me are known,
One is named Wood and another Stone.
'Either of them will your baby keep
Hushing him into a soft, long sleep,
Crooning a lonesome lullaby song;
They have been used to children long.'
Cold and yet kind was the nurse's breast;
Cold fell the rain on the babe at rest;
Pale was his face as an immortelle,
Old Mother Doorstep had nursed him well.
poem by Victor James Daley
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The singing in god's acre
Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God's Acre lies,
Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies.
Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low,
As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd guardeth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
The flowers within God's Acre see that fair and wondrous sight,
And hear the angels singing to the sleepers through the night;
And, lo! throughout the hours of day those gentle flowers prolong
The music of the angels in that tender slumber-song,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
He that guardeth His flock the best
Hath folded them to His loving breast;
So sleep ye now, and take your rest,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
From angel and from flower the years have learned that soothing song,
And with its heavenly music speed the days and nights along;
So through all time, whose flight the Shepherd's vigils glorify,
God's Acre slumbereth in the grace of that sweet lullaby,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
poem by Eugene Field
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Sicilian Lullaby
Hush, little one, and fold your hands;
The sun hath set, the moon is high;
The sea is singing to the sands,
And wakeful posies are beguiled
By many a fairy lullaby:
Hush, little child, my little child!
Dream, little one, and in your dreams
Float upward from this lowly place,--
Float out on mellow, misty streams
To lands where bideth Mary mild,
And let her kiss thy little face,
You little child, my little child!
Sleep, little one, and take thy rest,
With angels bending over thee,--
Sleep sweetly on that Father's breast
Whom our dear Christ hath reconciled;
But stay not there,--come back to me,
O little child, my little child!
poem by Eugene Field
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Alien
Alien to love
Alien to hate
Alien to knowledge
Alien to fate
Alien to sanity
Alien insane
Alien to caring
Alien in pain
poem by Poet Dragon
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The Promise of Sleep
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
All day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm's breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.
And now I think of only this,--
How I again may woo
The gentle sleep-- who promises
That death is gentle too.
Night Nurse
Tell her try her best just to make it quick
Woman tend to the sick
Because there must be something she can do
This heart is broken in two
Tell her its a case of emergency
Theres a patient by the name of mickey
Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse oh god
Oh the pain is getting worse
I dont want to see no doc
I need attendance from my nurse around the clock
Because theres no prescription for me
Shes the one the only remedy
My night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain is getting worse
Im hurt my love
I dont want to see no doc
I need attendance from my nurse around the clock
Because there s no prescription for me
Shes the one the only remedy
Night nurse
Only you alone can quench this here thirst
My night nurse
Oh the pain is getting worse
Im hurt my love
And Im sure no no doctor got a cure
My night nurse
My night nurse
My night nurse
song performed by by Simply Red
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swallows
she holds her baby close,
against the cold wind,
their breath together,
one fog.
shaken and driven
by the demons that had her,
she clings to her love,
alone.
a child with a child,
wrong address, wrong number,
the dark night sighs,
and swallows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Heart's Song
Absalon, my son, that I could have died for you, my son.
Life holds no pleasure, let me descent to hell, weeping
Grove of Tuoni, grove of evening,
There a sandy cradle is waiting,
There I will carry my child.
There the child is free from sorrow
In the wood, in the meadow
Tending the cattle of Tuoni.
There my child is free from sorrow
When the evening casts it's shadow
Rocked in the cradle of Tuoni.
There my child is free from sorrow,
Lulled to sleep by a birdsong mellow,
Rocked in a cradle of gold.
Peace of Tuoni, far from passion
Far away from man's oppression
Far from the treacherous world.
poem by Aleksis Kivi
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Villanelle
Come hither, child, and rest,
This is the end of day,
Behold the weary West!
Sleep rounds with equal zest
Man's toil and children's play,
Come hither, child, and rest.
My white bird, seek thy nest,
Thy drooping head down lay,
Behold the weary West!
Now eve is manifest
And homeward lies our way,
Behold the weary West!
Tired flower! upon my breast
I would wear thee alway,
Come hither, child, and rest -
Behold the weary West!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Villanelle Of Sunset
Come hither, child, and rest,
This is the end of day,
Behold the weary West!
Sleep rounds with equal zest
Man's toil and children's play,
Come hither, child, and rest.
My white bird, seek thy nest,
Thy drooping head down lay,
Behold the weary West!
Now eve is manifest
And homeward lies our way,
Behold the weary West!
Tired flower! upon my breast
I would wear thee alway,
Come hither, child, and rest -
Behold the weary West!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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The Hour When We Shall Meet Again
Dim hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
O rise and yoke the turtles to thy car!
Bend o'er the traces, blame each ligering dove!
And give me to the bosom of my love!
My gentle love, caressing and carest,
With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest!
Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes,
Lull with fond woe, and med'cine me with sighs!
Chilled by the night, the drooping rose of May
Mourns the long absence of the lovely day;
Young day returning at her promised hour
Weps o'er the sorrows of her fav'rite flower;
Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs,
And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes.
New life and joy th' expanding floweret feels:
His pitying mistress mourns, and mourning heals!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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