To a Little Invisible Being
Anna Lætitia Barbauld
1743 to 1825
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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And nature's sharpest pangs her wishes crown,
Nature for thee displays her various stores,
To grasp at all the worlds the Almighty wrought!
Opens her thousand inlets of delight.
Anxious I'd bid my beads each passing hour,
Auspicious borne through life's mysterious gate.
That her glad arms that burden may resume;
If charmed verse or muttered prayers had power,
To see and to salute the stranger guest,
Haste, precious pledge of happy love, to go
That free thee living from thy living tomb.
For thee the nurse prepares her lulling songs,
Fed with her life through many a tedious moon.
Bask in the fondness of a Mother's eye!
Haste, infant bud of being, haste to blow!
For many a moon their full perfection wait,—
Fresh younglings shoot, and opening roses glow!
Come, reap thy rich inheritance of love!
The eager matrons count the lingering day;
Haste, little captive, burst thy prison doors!
Like the first accents of thy feeble cry.
With favouring spells to speed thee on thy way,
She longs to fold to her maternal breast
What powers lie folded in thy curious frame,—
Part of herself, yet to herself unknown;
Germ of new life, whose powers expanding slow
Senses from objects locked, and mind from thought!
But far the most thy anxious parent longs
On thy soft cheek a mother's kiss to lay.
How little canst thou guess thy lofty claim
Till thy wished smile thy mother's pangs o'erpay.
She only asks to lay her burden down,
Launch on the living world, and spring to light!
Nor wit nor eloquence her heart shall move
Swarms of new life exulting fill the air,—
And see, the genial season's warmth to share,