A Sleep Song

Nora Hopper Chesson

1871 to 1906

Poem Image
Track 1

Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.

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White poppies dashed with dew, drowsy flowers to gather, 
Dark against the little light through the rain-blurred pane. 
Fair Sleep, rare Sleep, Death that is thy father, 
Let him think it is my hair, not thy branch of willow,
O Sleep, go. Sleep, hasten to my lover, 
Ay, and let me kiss the dream for the dreamer's sake. 
Gather me thy fairest flowers a soft dream to make 
Till he dreams it is my breast, and to dream is fain; 
Night that is thy mother, both sow flowers for thee; 
Singing low, singing slow, dearest child of Death. 
O Sleep, blow sleep-dust upon his pillow 
Leave my eyelids all forlorn of thy quiet breath; 
For my love — a dream of scent and of music blended. 
Hear, Sleep, dear Sleep, ere my song be ended — 
Yellow rose that silence saith to the busiest bee. 
Where my love lies wakeful, go thou and lean over,