AS some poor child whose soul is windowless, Having not hearing, speech, nor sight, sits lone In her dark, silent life, till cometh one With a most patient heart, who tries to guess Some hidden way to help her helplessness, And, yearning for that spirit shut in stone, A crystal that has never seen the sun, Smooths now the hair, and now the hand will press, Or gives a key to touch, then letters raised, Its symbol; then an apple, or a ring, And again letters, so, all blind and dumb, We wait; the kindly smiles of summer come, And soft winds touch our cheek, and thrushes sing; The world-heart yearns, but we stand dull and dazed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DISCONTENTS IN DEVON by ROBERT HERRICK THE SUMMER IS ENDED (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI HOW DOES THE RAIN COME? by CHARLES ROLLIN BALLARD IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A LESSON IN HUMILITY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |