
The speaker compares Nature leading us toward death to a mother taking a reluctant child to bed. Like the child leaving his playthings, we lose familiar attachments and approach rest uncertain whether to go or stay, unable to comprehend the unknown.
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow · Genre: Sonnet, Meditative Poetry · 168 words
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.
mortality · attachment · motherhood · sleep · uncertainty · sonnet
Nature is listed on Textopian as a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, dated Date unknown.
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