FOR your sake who have left me grieving I love the old who are tired of living, Tired of travelling a road grown weary, More than the young, more than the merry. The old, patient and rosy faces Stir my heart in its secret places. The old eyes that ache for rest Set my heart to bleed in my breast. More than the children, golden and ruddy, The bent knees and the feeble body Stab my heart with the mother-pain, For your sake in the night and rain. For your sake I would fain enfold them, The old heads to my breast and hold them, Keep them safe from the lonely fear, My kind love of many a year. The old hands, I could kneel and kiss them, Knotted and purple, could love them, caress them. Ah, my dear, when the house is asleep, I see your hands and I wake and weep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THREE SILENCES IN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON IN SAN MARCO, VENEZIA by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE SANCTUARY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY THE CHURCH WINDOWS by GEORGE HERBERT PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |