Half-waking
William Allingham
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.
Next 10 Poems
- William Allingham : In A Spring Grove
- William Allingham : In Snow
- William Allingham : Late Autumn
- William Allingham : Lepracaun Or Fairy Shoemaker, The
- William Allingham : Little Dell, The
- William Allingham : Lovely Mary Donnelly
- William Allingham : Meadowsweet
- William Allingham : On A Forenoon Of Spring
- William Allingham : Places And Men
- William Allingham : Robin Redbreast
Previous 10 Poems
- William Allingham : Fairies, The
- William Allingham : Eviction, The
- William Allingham : Down On The Shore
- William Allingham : Boy, The
- William Allingham : Autumnal Sonnet
- William Allingham : An Evening
- William Allingham : Amy Margaret's Five Year Old
- William Allingham : After Sunset
- William Allingham : Aeolian Harp
- William Allingham : Adieu To Belshanny