Idle hands, all day with patience folded! All day she watches others work and play; All day she waits and prays for strength to do! She hears them say, "How nice she doesn't have to work. I wish like her I, too, might rest." They do not know the added pain they give To her who smiles, her heartache to cover. Oh, idle hands with such patience folded! Could they but speak of dark and wakeful nights, Of lonely days, of shattered hopes, of fears -- Fears she would not show or give to others. God grant they never know the bitter pain Of lonely hours, the emptiness, the silent agony Of idle hands, all day with patience folded! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIT DOWN SAD SOUL by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER POLWART ON THE GREEN by ALLAN RAMSAY OLD MOTHERS by CHARLES SARSFIELD ROSS SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE: TO THE READER by WILLIAM BASSE A SONG OF MARY by AGNES H. BEGBIE |