Asleep
by Edward A. Jenks
Dear tired Mother Earth has gone to sleep:
Walk tiptoe through her chamber lest she waken!
Her children faithful watch above her keep,
While she with slumber sweet is overtaken.
Not long ago a thousand tender ferns
Spread over her their wealth of dew-spun laces,
And nestled close to her warm heart, where burns
The fire that kindles Spring-time's sylvan graces.
And when the blessed Mother longed for rest,
How soothingly the little slender grasses
Threw all their soft green arms across her breast:
No wintry blast shall touch her as it passes!
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