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.
Fine poem. The cradle song is good enough only when the babe is babe. When it is grown up the distance is wide. the last lines mean that.
There is a note about the personal life of the poet. Perhaps the love and affection of a father for his daughter.
Forever a child you shall be To me your eternal mother Even as angels sing and leap Admiring you my golden flower (such innocence and sensitivity in the poet - W B Yates Please come back!)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a cute poem! Fabulous! Children are angels but when they grow up they shed their wings.