A Cradle Song -- William Butler Yeats

Guest poem submitted by Vivek Nallur :

(Poem #1633) A Cradle Song 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.