[1634] A Cradle Song

Guest poem submitted by Vivek Nallur <nallur@>:

The angels are stooping
Above your bed;
They weary of trooping
With the whimpering dead.
God's laughing in Heaven
To see you so good;
The Sailing Seven
are gay with His mood.
I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I shall miss you
When you have grown.

	-- William Butler Yeats

After the last few (mostly) sombre poems, here's another one on yearning,
yet a lot more cheerful. Anyone who's seen a little one grow up will
identify with the feeling of sweet loss when the child lets go of one's
finger and walks on its own.

There's a more than adequate bio of Yeats with Poem #32.

Vivek.

[this poem is archived, accessible and awaiting your comments at]
http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1634.html
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