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A Memory

 (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.

Poem by Rupert Brooke
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