Samuel Lover Poems
Comments about Samuel Lover
The Angel's Whisper
[In Ireland they have a pretty fancy that when a child smiles in its sleep it is "talking with angels."]
A BABY was sleeping;
Its mother was weeping;
For her husband was far on the wild raging sea;
And the tempest was swelling
Round the fisherman's dwelling;
And she cried, "Dermot, darling! O come back to me!"
Her beads while she numbered
The baby still slumbered,
And smiled in her face as she bended her knee:
"O, blessed be that warning,
Och hone! and what will I do?
Sure my love is all crost
Like a bud in the frost;
And there's no use at all in my going to bed,
For 'tis dhrames and not sleep comes into my head,
And 'tis all about you,
My sweet Molly Carew-
And indeed 'tis a sin and a shame!
You're complater than Nature