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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE SICK CHILD, by KATHARINE TYNAN Poet's Biography
First Line: He for whom the world was made
Last Line: In his mother's heart, dear lord.
Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan
Subject(s): Children; Prayer; Sickness; Childhood; Illness
First Line: He for whom the world was made
Last Line: In his mother's heart, dear lord.
Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan
Subject(s): Children; Prayer; Sickness; Childhood; Illness
HE for whom the world was made
Cannot lift his heavy head,
All its pretty curls puffed out,
Burnt with fevers, parched with drought.
He, the tyrant, whimsical,
With the round world for his ball,
In a dreadful patience lies,
Old since yesterday and wise.
Like a martyr on the rack
Smiles, his soft lips burnt to black,
While the fever still devours
His small body, sweet as flowers.
Dreadful patience like a sword
Stabs his mother's heart, dear Lord:
Make him naughty, wild and gay,
As he was but yesterday!
Little services he pays
With his kisses and his praise,
While his eyes ask pardon still
That he's troublesome and ill.
He lies smiling, with a fire
In his cheeks blown high and higher,
By the wind of fever fanned.
Lord, his kisses on my hand!
Give me back my boy, I pray,
Turbulent, of yesterday:
Not this angel, like a sword
In his mother's heart, dear Lord.
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