BOTH of them deaf, and close on eighty years old: She stone blind, and he nearly so; Side by side crouching over the fire in a little London hovel—six shillings a week— Their joints knotted with rheumatism, their faces all day long mute like statues of all passing expression (no cloud flying by, no gleam of sunshine there)—lips closed and silent: But for that now and then taking his pipe out of his mouth, He puts his face close to her ear and yells just a word into it, And she nods her blind head and gives a raucous screech in answer. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EARTH'S IMMORTALITIES: LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING AVE MARIA GRATIA PLENA by OSCAR WILDE AFTER THE NIGHT by NOUREDDIN ADDIS A MOOD by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 76. YA WALI by EDWIN ARNOLD TO JOANNA, ON SENDING ME THE LEAF OF A FLOWER ... WORDSWORTH'S GARDEN by BERNARD BARTON THE LAST MAN: A DREAM by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE CHAMPION (SUGGESTED BY A STORY OF JACK LONDON) by BERTON BRALEY |