I grasped a thread of silver; it cut me to the bone - I reached for an apple; it was bleak as a stone - I reached for a heart, and touched a raw blade - And this was the bargain God had made For a little gift of speech Set a cubit higher than the common reach, A debt running on until the fool is dead. " Carve a Pater Noster to put at his head As a curse or a prayer, And leave him there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VALEDICTION: OF MY NAME IN THE WINDOW by JOHN DONNE SONGS OF TRAVEL: 2. YOUTH AND LOVE: 1 by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT THE ETERNAL GOODNESS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PICKEN O' SCROFF by WILLIAM BARNES AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE SURSUM CORDA by MARGARET CARROLL BRADY |