Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SURGEON'S HANDS, by IDA NORTON MUNSON

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THE SURGEON'S HANDS, by            
First Line: His face? I know not whether it be fair
Last Line: As though the hands of christ had served and blest.
Subject(s): Jesus Christ; Surgery

His face? I know not whether it be fair,
Or lined and grayed to mark the slipping years.
His eyes? I do not glimpse the pity there,
Or try to probe their depths for hopes and fears.
Only upon his wondrous hands I gaze,
And search my memory through so fittingly
To voice their loveliness. In still amaze
I bow before their quiet dignity.

They make the crooked straight and heal old sores;
The blind to see, the war-torn clean and whole.
Throughout the suffering world they touch the doors
That open wide to life. The bitter bowl
Of pain they sweeten till the weary rest,
As though the hands of Christ had served and blest.

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