IF you were only six feet tall, How many times I'd make you bend To reach whatever I let fall! I'd watch your casual hand extend With measured grace—or awkwardness— A hundred times a day, no less! But since you claim two inches more, And wear so large a dignity, How should I bid you bend it for Some trivial thing, dropped carelessly? And not to shame you, I'll watch out, And keep from scattering things about. But if sometime you hear me ask Your strength of you, you must not mind That it's no Herculean task For one so powerful and kind, Who, easily as taking breath, Could lift me from the jaws of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WAY OF THE CONVENTICLE OF THE TREES by HAYDEN CARRUTH LOST ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: GODWIN JAMES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PEOPLE'S SURROUNDINGS by MARIANNE MOORE |