I STRETCH out both my hands to you -- It pleased you once to call them fair; Look now and see if anywhere Are hands more scarred and worn than these That lost their fairness serving you. I lift up my two eyes to you -- It pleased you once to call them sweet; Judge now if any eyes repeat Their lack of light -- poor eyes that wept Their sweetness out in guarding you. O hands and eyes once dear to you, I would not they had served you less, Yet hands like these who might caress, Nor eyes like these win love again For all their wistful prayer to you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A THOUGHT SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, OF SADDLEBACK IN CUMBERLAND by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GRENADIER by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO THE WHITE FIENDS by CLAUDE MCKAY IN LIGHTER VEIN by ELIZABETH KEMPER ADAMS |