Half-Waking

I Thought it was the little bed I slept in long ago; A straight white curtain at the head, And two smooth knobs below. I thought I saw the nursery fire, And in a chair well-known My mother sat, and did not tire With reading all alone. If I should make the slightest sound To show that I ’m awake, She ’d rise, and lap the blankets round, My pillow softly shake; Kiss me, and turn my face to see The shadows on the wall, And then sing “Rousseau’s Dream” to me, Till fast asleep I fall. But this is not my little bed; That time is far away: With strangers now I live instead, From dreary day to day.

Collection: 
English
1844
William Allingham
Sub Title: 
Poems of Home: II. For Children

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