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A Memory

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Written by Rupert Brooke

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 (From a sonnet-sequence)


Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept 
Softly along the dim way to your room, 
And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, 
And holiness about you as you slept.
I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept About my head, and held it.
I had rest Unhoped this side of Heaven, beneath your breast.
I knelt a long time, still; nor even wept.
It was great wrong you did me; and for gain Of that poor moment’s kindliness, and ease, And sleepy mother-comfort! Child, you know How easily love leaps out to dreams like these, Who has seen them true.
And love that’s wakened so Takes all too long to lay asleep again.


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