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...WHEN MY SHIP COMES IN by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE QUA CURSUM VENTUS by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH PASSING BY by THOMAS FORD (1580-1648) ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 63 by PHILIP SIDNEY CHOEPHOROI: ORESTES GOES MAD by AESCHYLUS PALINODE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE OUTCAST by HELEN MCCRORY ARENDELL SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 28. WATERLOO by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |