Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By EugeneField1038 In the Firelight
T
And there is stillness everywhere,
And, like winged spirits, here and there
The firelight shadows fluttering go.
And as the shadows round me creep,
A childish treble breaks the gloom,
And softly from a further room
Comes: “Now I lay me down to sleep.”
And that sweet treble in my ears,
My thought goes back to distant years,
And lingers with a dear one there;
And as I hear my child’s amen,
My mother’s faith comes back to me,—
Crouched at her side I seem to be,
And mother holds my hands again.
Oh for the peace of that dear time,
Oh for that childish trust sublime,
Oh for a glimpse of mother’s face!
Yet, as the shadows round me creep,
I do not seem to be alone—
Sweet magic of that treble tone
And “Now I lay me down to sleep!”