The orphans sleep in a big bare room, Their beds are all in rows -- And why an even space between Not any orphan knows. They go to walk in afternoons, Their hats are always blue; The little ones go hand in hand And always two by two. Sometimes I look beneath the brim That shades an orphan's eyes, And radiance that's hidden there Gives me a fresh surprise. It makes me think of a row of flowers In a forgotten yard, That push their way through cracks in the walk, When the trodden earth is hard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPIRIT OF '76 by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS ODES II, 14 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS AFTER DEATH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI FARM-YARD SONG by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE THE CONFIDENT SCIENTIST by ALEXIS |