To-Day And To-Morrow

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Title:     To-Day And To-Morrow
Author: Laurence Alma-Tadema [More Titles by Alma-Tadema]

Little hands--what will you grasp
When you leave this nest, O?
Little arms--what will you clasp
Against that tender breast, O?
Cling to mother's finger, babe,
Throw sweet arms about me!
Here no noons may linger, babe,
Soon you'll love without me.

Little toes--where will you turn,
East or south or west, O?
Little feet--what sands that burn
Will you soon have pressed, O?
Lie on mother's knee, my own,
Dance your heels about me!
Apples leave the tree, my own,
Soon you'll live without me....

[The end]
Laurence Alma-Tadema's poem: To-Day And To-Morrow

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