IN phantasy of thought and phrase, Halting am I and slow of speech; But does the work of many days Weigh less with you than show of speech? Do not things done and perfected Mean more than many nothings said? Out of the nothing that was mine Behold a something made for you: Is it so far to seek, the sign That I have worked, not played, for you? Would you have loved me more if I Had talked—and let the days slip by? Come back, come back! The yet young hours Are old and grey with heed of you: Black Care behind me grins and low'rs, And mocks me with the need of you: My weird is desolate to dree Without the Very Half of Me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH NAMING FOR LOVE by HAYDEN CARRUTH NORTH WINTER by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE HILL ABOVE THE MINE by MALCOLM COWLEY EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN |