Hannah, offering her first-born To her smiling Lord!— So, this tiny toiling creature In accord, Offering many a little one To the smiling Sun! Hannah's faith was great— O, come and see This golden act— This fealty! Hannah could no more For the boy she bore. What great Lady Could do so much? With hidden face But faithful clutch, Holding her bag of eggs, She begs. With what patience And conjuring skill, She turns the tiny ball At her will, To the smiling Sun, The bag she spun. Hannah in the Temple, Lycosa on the stones, All their concern For the little ones— What more can be done For Lord or Sun? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH SNIPS PROUD MEN by CARL SANDBURG DISASTER by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE PATH-FLOWER by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE THIRD DAY: AZRAEL by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW FAREWELL TO THE FARM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE WALLABOUT MARTYRS by WALT WHITMAN |