I think just how my shape will rise - When I shall be "forgiven" - Till Hair - and Eyes - and timid Head - Are out of sight - in Heaven - I think just how my lips will weigh - With shapeless - quivering - prayer - That you - so late - "Consider" me - The "Sparrow" of your Care - I mind me that of Anguish - sent - Some drifts were moved away - Before my simple bosom - broke - And why not this - if they? And so I con that thing - "forgiven" - Until - delirious - borne - By my long bright - and longer - trust - I drop my Heart - unshriven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON TAGORE by MARIANNE MOORE STREET LANTERNS by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE RIDDLERS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE WINTRY WEATHER by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY THE ANGELS OF BUENA VISTA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |