For the long nights you lay awake
And watched for my unworthy sake:
For your most comfortable hand
That led me through the uneven land:
For all the story-books you read:
For all the pains you comforted:
For all you pitied, all you bore,
In sad and happy days of yore:-
My second Mother, my first Wife,
The angel of my infant life-
From the sick child, now well and old,
Take, nurse, the little book you hold!
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read
May find as dear a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme,
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice
As made my childish days rejoice!
To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy
Robert Louis Stevenson
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Poem topics: angel, happy, heaven, life, mother, sad, sick, wife, dear, voice, grant, long, hear, bright, story, rejoice, sake, book, hold, rhyme, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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