'TIS but a box, of modest deal; Directed to no matter where: Yet down my cheek the teardrops steal -- Yet, I am blubbering like a seal; For on it is this mute appeal, @3"With care."@1 I am a stern cold man, and range Apart: but those vague words @3"With care"@1 Wake yearnings in me sweet as strange: Drawn from my moral Moated Grange, I feel I rather like the change Of air. Hast thou ne'er seen rough pointsmen spy Some simple English phrase -- @3"With care"@1 Or "@3This side uppermost"@1 -- and cry Like children? No? No more have I. Yet deem not him whose eyes are dry A bear. But ah! what treasure hides beneath That lid so much the worse for wear? A ring perhaps -- a rosy wreath -- A photograph by Vernon Heath -- Some matron's temporary teeth Or hair! Perhaps some seaman, in Peru Or Ind, hath stow'd herein a rare Cargo of birds' eggs for his Sue; With many a vow that he'll be true, And many a hint that she is too, Too fair. Perhaps -- but wherefore vainly pry Into the page that's folded there? I shall be better by and by: The porters, as I sit and sigh, Pass and repass -- I wonder why They stare! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 1. PERE AMELOT by EDITH SITWELL THE LOVER'S MESSAGE; SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE FACTORY; 'TIS AN ACCURSED THING! by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON SANTA FILOMENA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ALMOND BLOSSOM by EDWIN ARNOLD FIRST CYCLE OF LOVE POEMS: 4 by GEORGE BARKER |