WE came from church, she from the Down was coming; She with a branch of may, We laden with persistence of the humming Wherein men think they pray; She winning to her faded face a beauty From the kissed buds, we having heard "the duty Performed," with needful prayer-book thumbing; We proper, she so gay. Yet, as we met, her little joy was dashed By our spruce decency; She hung her head as who must be abashed In her poor liberty; Forgetting how in that damp city cellar The sick child pines, whom none but God did tell her To bring bright flowers Himself has splashed With dew for such as she. Or was it but the natural rebound To what thou truly art, O worn with life! whose soul-depths He would sound, And prick upon His chart? Is this thy "service"? Stay! for very grace! One moment stay, and lift the faded face! O woman! woman! thou hast found The way into my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CALL TO ARMS by MARY RAYMOND SHIPMAN ANDREWS THE BALLAD OF ORISKANY by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER PSALM 100 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 30 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 9 by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. TO ONE DEAD by EDWARD CARPENTER UPON PRINCESS ELIZABETH, BORN THE NIGHT BEFORE NEW YEAR'S DAY by JOHN CLEVELAND |