9

As a tired Mother, when the day
is o'er
Leads by the hand her little child
to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to
be led,
And leaves her broken play things
on the floor,
Still gazing at them through
the open door,
Nor wholly reassured & comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which tho' more splendid, may
not please him more,
So nature deals[line over lowercase c, symbol for with] us & takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the
hand
Lead 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
Longfellow