Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem/sonnet: Nature

Birds of Passage by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A BOOK OF SONNETS - Nature
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Nature As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant to be led, And leave his broken playthings on the floor, Still gazing at them through the open door, Nor wholly reassured and comforted By promises of others in their stead, Which, though more splendid, may not please him more; So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so gently, that we go Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay, Being too full of sleep to understand How far the unknown transcends the what we know. Content of A BOOK OF SONNETS: Nature [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem collection: Birds of Passage] Read next: A BOOK OF SONNETS#In the Churchyard at Tarrytown Read previous: A BOOK OF SONNETS#Il Ponte Vecchio di Firenze Table of content of Birds of Passage GO TO TOP OF SCREEN Post your review Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book

Birds of Passage by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow