Hannah, offering her first-born To her smiling Lord!— So, this tiny toiling creature In accord, Offering many a little one To the smiling Sun! Hannah's faith was great— O, come and see This golden act— This fealty! Hannah could no more For the boy she bore. What great Lady Could do so much? With hidden face But faithful clutch, Holding her bag of eggs, She begs. With what patience And conjuring skill, She turns the tiny ball At her will, To the smiling Sun, The bag she spun. Hannah in the Temple, Lycosa on the stones, All their concern For the little ones— What more can be done For Lord or Sun? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON WORDSWORTH by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE HOW ARE YOU, SANITARY?' by FRANCIS BRET HARTE LANCER by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SATIRE: 1. TO JOHN POYNZ (POINS) by THOMAS WYATT SIBLINGS OF A GRAYER SKY by NAVEED ALAM |