Rupert Chawner Brooke

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.