The angels are bending
Above your white bed;
They weary of tending
The souls of the dead.
God smiles in high heaven
To see you so good;
The old planets seven
Grow gay with His mood.
I kiss you and kiss you,
With arms round my own;
Ah, how I shall miss you,
When, dear, you have grown.
"The Cradle Song", by W.B.Yeats
2 comments:
Well, if I had me as a child, I'd miss my children too!
Just kidding.
We love you too!
i don't think i've read that poem before, it's lovely.
i miss my children just reading it - and they're all over the place :)
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