NEVER, I know, complaining word Will soil your lips of stedfastness, But what so bravely is unheard, Your hand in silence will confess; Your hand, poor witness of your pain, Its fragile motion telling me Of weary nights when it has lain Upon your heart's adversity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNCLE JIM'S BAPTIST REVIVAL HYMN by SIDNEY LANIER THE BOSTON ATHENAEUM by AMY LOWELL APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE IS YOUR TOWN NINEVEH? by MARIANNE MOORE REALITY REQUIRES by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA IN A CUBAN GARDEN by SARA TEASDALE WHAT DO I CARE by SARA TEASDALE OWEN SEAMAN; ESTABLISHES ENTENE CORDIALE IN MANNER GUY WETMORE CARRYL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |