The cut in the aged finger heals, Mechanic blood, quick to repair, Draws tight the juiceless skin and seals The unimportant tear. But the unhindered breach within, No steady toil of cell makes whole, The body's old command rings thin, When the injury is the soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE AUTUMN OF 1862 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER EUMARES by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS SATIRE: 3 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS THE BATTLE OF THE PIGMIES AND THE CRANES by JAMES BEATTIE VERDANT GREEN AND THE CROW by ROBERT BRUCE VERNAL MAGIC by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TO THYRZA (2) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |