Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON THE LOSS OF HIS FINGER, by THOMAS RANDOLPH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON THE LOSS OF HIS FINGER, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: How much more blest are trees than men!
Last Line: And we in heaven shake hands again.
Subject(s): Accidents; Fingers


HOW much more blest are trees than men!
Their boughs lopp'd off will grow again;
But if the steel our limbs dissever,
The joint once lost is lost for ever.
But fondly I (dull fool) complain,
Our members shall revive again,
And thou (poor finger) that art dust
Before the other members, must
Return as soon as heavens command,
And reunited be to th' hand,
As those that are not ashes yet.
Why dost thou then so envious sit,
And malice oaks that they to fate
Are tenants of a longer date?
Their leases do more years include;
But (once expir'd) are ne'er renew'd.
Therefore, dear finger, though thou be
Cut from those muscles govern'd thee,
And had thy motion at command,
Yet still as in a margent stand,
To point my thoughts to fix upon
The hope of resurrection.
And since thou canst no finger be
Be a death's-head to humble me,
till death doth threat her sting in vain,
And we in heaven shake hands again.





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