Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A LOVER'S DIARY: SONNET. A WOMAN'S HAND, by HORATIO GILBERT PARKER


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A LOVER'S DIARY: SONNET. A WOMAN'S HAND, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: None ever climbed to mountain height of
Last Line: A woman's sacrifice and tenderness.
Alternate Author Name(s): Parker, Gilbert
Subject(s): Diaries; Women


I

NONE ever climbed to mountain height of song,
But felt the touch of some good woman's palm;
None ever reached God's altitude of calm,
But heard one voice cry, "Follow!" from the throng.
I would not place her as an image high
Above my reach, cold, in some dim recess,
Where never she should feel a warm caress
Of this my hand that serves her till I die.
I would not set her higher than my heart, --
Though she is nobler than I e'er can be, --
Because she placed me from the crowd apart,
And with her tenderness she honored me.
Because of this, I hold me worthier
To be her kinsman, while I worship her.

II

A WOMAN'S hand. Lo, I am thankful now
That with its touch I have walked all my days;
Rising from fateful and forbidden ways,
To find a woman's hand upon my brow,
Soft as a pad of rose-leaves, and as pure
As upraised palms of angels, seen in dreams:
And soothed by it, to stand as it beseems
A man who strives to conquer and endure.
A woman's hand! -- There is no better thing
Of all things human; it is half divine;
It hath been more to this lame life of mine,
When faith was weakness, and despair was king.
Man more than all men, Thou wast glad to bless
A woman's sacrifice and tenderness.





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