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.

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Comments (6)

(Nature by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.) **Analogy, comparing nature and death with the nightly recess of a child as imposed by its mother.
.....much to contemplate in this beautiful verse ★
This poem is much deeper than appears at first glance. Leonard Wilson's comment below says it all and then some.
Nice and well penned piece of poetry. Thanks for sharing.
Longfellow here is at his best, and I like much the anology of child and mother and what comes after. The poem is a good one but the language is simple, very easy to get what the poems says. Sometimes easy language works much better that twenty dollar words. why complicate thigs when easy would do it? And this is just what Longfellow does in this try. Many things to admire about this splendit poem! Luis Estable
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