A VOICE of pity strove to bless In accents bountifully kind, But still my grief knew no redress, Grown mad and blind. The presence made herself my slave, Hither and thither came and went: All that she had poor Kindness gave, Till all was spent. She tried to soothe and make me whole: Her touch was torment in my pain; It froze my heart, benumbed my soul, And crazed my brain. At last, her duty all fulfilled, She turned with cheerful ease away, Yet would have lingered, had I willed That she should stay. And lo! there knelt, where she had stood, One, wistful as a child might be, Who blushed at her own hardihood In helping me. She said no word, she only turned Her passionate sweet eyes on mine, Until within my sorrow burned A bliss divine. And in that gaze I woke once more To earth beneath and heaven above:— This was not Kindness as before, But only Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SAD, SAD STORY by MOTHER GOOSE EYE-WITNESS by FREDERICK RIDGELY TORRENCE THE IMPROVISATORE: ALBERT AND EMILY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES VOLATUS TRIUMPHANS by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE WIND IN THE WILLOWS by VERNE TAYLOR BENEDICT WHITE SPIRITUAL by WILLIAM BERRY IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HOW SHALL I BUILD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE BAPTISTRY by ADA CAMBRIDGE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT by EDWARD CARPENTER |