Lay away the story,--
Though the theme is sweet,
There's a lack of something yet,
Leaves it incomplete:--
There's a nameless yearning--
Strangely undefined--
For a story sweeter still
Than the written kind.
Therefore read no longer--
I've no heart to hear
But just something you make up,
O my mother dear.--
With your arms around me,
Hold me, folded-eyed,--
Only let your voice go on--
I'll be satisfied.
