I WISH that thoughts of me could be like water Running over blue shale below a meadow, Clear and serene and remotely cold, among stones Washed bright by its resistless, intricate passing. So through the bitter places of your brain, The hot and bewildered places, thoughts of me Might bring the passionless coldness of brook-water, The tranquil peace, unhurt by a blasting sun. For you have said no other power will serve To free you Than the proud look of eyes that do not swerve, But see you Gloriously,—than the touch of hands that curve Over your forehead, over your eyes, defying Thoughts like thin barbed arrows, singing and flying Around you. Always from the world without You feel their sting, but these frail hands of mine Can turn them aside, for they will not strike through This little flesh and blood that is as stout As armoured steel for the defense of you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BAD CHILD'S BOOK OF BEASTS: INTRODUCTION by HILAIRE BELLOC CAVE PAINTING by HAYDEN CARRUTH STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 1. SEATTLE by CLARENCE MAJOR TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE |