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My Sister’s Sleep

poems--my-sisters-sleep

Source URL https://ririro.com/poems/my-sisters-sleep/

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My Sister’s Sleep

She fell asleep on Christmas Eve: At length, the long-ungranted shade Of weary eyelids overweighed The pain naught else might yet relieve.

Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.

Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.

Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance, sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup.

Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fire-shine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove, The mirror shed a clearness round.

I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank The stillness and the broken lights.

Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then The ruffled silence spread again, Like water that a pebble stirs.

Our mother rose from where she sat: Her needles, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled; no other noise than that.

"Glory unto the Newly Born," So as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn.

Just then, in the room over us, There was a pushing back of chairs, As someone who had sat unawares So late now heard the hour and rose.

With anxious, softly-stepping haste, Our mother went where Margaret lay, Fearing the sounds overhead - should they Have broken her long-watched-for rest!

She stooped an instant, calm, and turned; But suddenly turned back again; And all her features seemed in pain, With woe, and her eyes gazed and yearned.

For my part, I but hid my face, And held my breath, and spoke no word; There was none spoken, but I heard The silence for a little space.

Our mother bowed herself and wept; And both my arms fell, and I said, "God knows I knew that she was dead," And there, all white, my sister slept.

Then kneeling upon Christmas morn, A little after twelve o'clock, We said, ere the first quarter struck, "Christ's blessing on the newly born!"

She fell asleep on Christmas Eve: At length, the long-ungranted shade Of weary eyelids overweighed The pain naught else might yet relieve.

Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.

Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.

Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance, sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup.

Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fire-shine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove, The mirror shed a clearness round.

I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank The stillness and the broken lights.

Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then The ruffled silence spread again, Like water that a pebble stirs.

Our mother rose from where she sat: Her needles, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled; no other noise than that.

"Glory unto the Newly Born," So as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn.

Just then, in the room over us, There was a pushing back of chairs, As someone who had sat unawares So late now heard the hour and rose.

With anxious, softly-stepping haste, Our mother went where Margaret lay, Fearing the sounds overhead - should they Have broken her long-watched-for rest!

She stooped an instant, calm, and turned; But suddenly turned back again; And all her features seemed in pain, With woe, and her eyes gazed and yearned.

For my part, I but hid my face, And held my breath, and spoke no word; There was none spoken, but I heard The silence for a little space.

Our mother bowed herself and wept; And both my arms fell, and I said, "God knows I knew that she was dead," And there, all white, my sister slept.

Then kneeling upon Christmas morn, A little after twelve o'clock, We said, ere the first quarter struck, "Christ's blessing on the newly born!"

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  "title": "My Sister’s Sleep",
  "author": "Dante Gabriel Rossetti",
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  "summary": "This poem reflects on a somber scene on Christmas Eve, capturing the quiet sadness and tender emotions in a household where a girl, the narrator\\'s sister, falls into her final sleep. The mother, who has been vigilantly attending to her ailing child, takes a moment to pray and reflect quietly. The detailed imagery evokes a serene but sorrowful night, marked by the flickering firelight and the chilling glow of the winter moon. As midnight signals the arrival of Christmas, there is a brief hope with the traditional mention of the Newly Born, yet this is juxtaposed by the sorrowful realization of the sister\\'s passing. In this poignant moment, the family, united in their grief, acknowledges her death with silent tears and a whispered prayer, embracing both their loss and the hope represented by Christmas, thus intertwining themes of mourning and divine hope.",
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    "Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.",
    "Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.",
    "Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance, sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup.",
    "Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fire-shine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove, The mirror shed a clearness round.",
    "I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank The stillness and the broken lights.",
    "Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then The ruffled silence spread again, Like water that a pebble stirs.",
    "Our mother rose from where she sat: Her needles, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled; no other noise than that.",
    "“Glory unto the Newly Born,” So as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn.",
    "Just then, in the room over us, There was a pushing back of chairs, As someone who had sat unawares So late now heard the hour and rose.",
    "With anxious, softly-stepping haste, Our mother went where Margaret lay, Fearing the sounds overhead—should they Have broken her long-watched-for rest!",
    "She stooped an instant, calm, and turned; But suddenly turned back again; And all her features seemed in pain, With woe, and her eyes gazed and yearned.",
    "For my part, I but hid my face, And held my breath, and spoke no word; There was none spoken, but I heard The silence for a little space.",
    "Our mother bowed herself and wept; And both my arms fell, and I said, “God knows I knew that she was dead,” And there, all white, my sister slept.",
    "Then kneeling upon Christmas morn, A little after twelve o’clock, We said, ere the first quarter struck, “Christ’s blessing on the newly born!”"
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    "She fell asleep on Christmas Eve: At length, the long-ungranted shade Of weary eyelids overweighed The pain naught else might yet relieve.",
    "Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.",
    "Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.",
    "Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance, sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup.",
    "Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fire-shine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove, The mirror shed a clearness round.",
    "I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank The stillness and the broken lights.",
    "Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then The ruffled silence spread again, Like water that a pebble stirs.",
    "Our mother rose from where she sat: Her needles, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled; no other noise than that.",
    "\"Glory unto the Newly Born,\" So as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn.",
    "Just then, in the room over us, There was a pushing back of chairs, As someone who had sat unawares So late now heard the hour and rose.",
    "With anxious, softly-stepping haste, Our mother went where Margaret lay, Fearing the sounds overhead - should they Have broken her long-watched-for rest!",
    "She stooped an instant, calm, and turned; But suddenly turned back again; And all her features seemed in pain, With woe, and her eyes gazed and yearned.",
    "For my part, I but hid my face, And held my breath, and spoke no word; There was none spoken, but I heard The silence for a little space.",
    "Our mother bowed herself and wept; And both my arms fell, and I said, \"God knows I knew that she was dead,\" And there, all white, my sister slept.",
    "Then kneeling upon Christmas morn, A little after twelve o'clock, We said, ere the first quarter struck, \"Christ's blessing on the newly born!\""
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    "Our mother, who had leaned all day Over the bed from chime to chime, Then raised herself for the first time, And as she sat her down, did pray.",
    "Her little work-table was spread With work to finish. For the glare Made by her candle, she had care To work some distance from the bed.",
    "Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance, sheer and thin; The hollow halo it was in Was like an icy crystal cup.",
    "Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fire-shine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove, The mirror shed a clearness round.",
    "I had been sitting up some nights, And my tired mind felt weak and blank; Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank The stillness and the broken lights.",
    "Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then The ruffled silence spread again, Like water that a pebble stirs.",
    "Our mother rose from where she sat: Her needles, as she laid them down, Met lightly, and her silken gown Settled; no other noise than that.",
    "\"Glory unto the Newly Born,\" So as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn.",
    "Just then, in the room over us, There was a pushing back of chairs, As someone who had sat unawares So late now heard the hour and rose.",
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