Elizabeth Barrett Browning - A Child Asleep lyrics
[Elizabeth Barrett Browning - A Child Asleep lyrics]
How he sleepeth, having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore!
From it's 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 palms
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
Vision unto vision calleth
While the young child dreameth on:
Fair, O dreamer, thee befalleth
With the glory thou hast won!
Darker wast thou in the garden
Yestermorn by summer sun
We should see the spirit's ringing
Round thee, were the clouds away:
'T is the child heart draws them
Singing
In the silent-seeming clay
Singing! stars that seem the mutest go
In music all the way
As the moths around a taper
As the bees around a rose
As the gnats around a vapour
So the spirit's group and close
Round about a holy childhood as
If drinking it's repose
Shapes of brightness overlean thee
Flash their diadems of youth
On the ringlets which half screen thee
While thou smilest not in sooth
Thy smile, but the overfair one
Dropt from some etherial mouth
Haply it is angels' duty
During slumber, shade by shade
To fine down this childish beauty
To the thing it must be made
Ere the world shall bring it praises
Or the tomb shall see it fade
Softly, softly! make no noises!
Now he lieth dead and dumb
Now he hears the angels' voices
Folding silence in the room
Now he muses deep the meaning of
The Heaven-words as they come
Speak not! he is consecrated
Breathe no breath across his eyes:
Lifted up and separated
On the hand of God he lies
In a sweetness beyond touching
Held in cloistral sanctities
Could ye bless him, father mother
Bless the dimple in his cheek?
Dare ye look at one another
And the benediction speak?
Would ye not break out in weeping
And confess yourselves too weak?
He is harmless, ye are sinful
Ye are troubled, he at ease
From his slumber virtue winful
Floweth outward with increase
Dare not bless him! but be
Blessèd by his peace, and go in peace
Weary childhood's mandragore!
From it's 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 palms
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
Vision unto vision calleth
While the young child dreameth on:
Fair, O dreamer, thee befalleth
With the glory thou hast won!
Darker wast thou in the garden
Yestermorn by summer sun
We should see the spirit's ringing
Round thee, were the clouds away:
'T is the child heart draws them
Singing
In the silent-seeming clay
Singing! stars that seem the mutest go
In music all the way
As the moths around a taper
As the bees around a rose
As the gnats around a vapour
So the spirit's group and close
Round about a holy childhood as
If drinking it's repose
Shapes of brightness overlean thee
Flash their diadems of youth
On the ringlets which half screen thee
While thou smilest not in sooth
Thy smile, but the overfair one
Dropt from some etherial mouth
Haply it is angels' duty
During slumber, shade by shade
To fine down this childish beauty
To the thing it must be made
Ere the world shall bring it praises
Or the tomb shall see it fade
Softly, softly! make no noises!
Now he lieth dead and dumb
Now he hears the angels' voices
Folding silence in the room
Now he muses deep the meaning of
The Heaven-words as they come
Speak not! he is consecrated
Breathe no breath across his eyes:
Lifted up and separated
On the hand of God he lies
In a sweetness beyond touching
Held in cloistral sanctities
Could ye bless him, father mother
Bless the dimple in his cheek?
Dare ye look at one another
And the benediction speak?
Would ye not break out in weeping
And confess yourselves too weak?
He is harmless, ye are sinful
Ye are troubled, he at ease
From his slumber virtue winful
Floweth outward with increase
Dare not bless him! but be
Blessèd by his peace, and go in peace