Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground. Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes Do you hope to see The triumphal march of justice? Do not wait, friend! Take your white beard And your old eyes To more tender lands. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOMORROW by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ESTONIAN BRIDAL SONG by JOHANN GOTTFRIED VON HERDER THE WANDERING JEW by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN ROUNDEL FOR THESE TIMES by ADELIA DOOLITTLE BAUER THE CATHEDRAL PORCH by LAURENCE BINYON THE HUNTER'S MOON by MATHILDE BLIND |