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.
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