What is the hand but a good instrument Wherewith to fetch or carry, give or take. Formed with no other worth, than for the sake Of power to guide some force to mind's intent? A worthless shell, in which a pearl is pent; A shapely rind from which the fruit we break; A vessel full of wears of Indian make, Built for its cargo from the Orient. "Why, then," cried heart, "Why am I throbbing so?" "O, then," cried eyes, "Why do we shine so bright?" "And I," cried hand, "Why am I satisfied? When you but touch a lady's hand we know?" Now, on your faith, are you consistent quite? No gift in that small palm have we espied. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADRIGAL: 1 by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN THE BARD; A PINDARIC ODE by THOMAS GRAY THE HONEYSUCKLE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ASPIRATIONS: 2 by MATHILDE BLIND VALUES by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |