(To Eudora, after I had had certain dire adventures.) When Dragon-fly would fix his wings, When Snail would patch his house, When moths have marred the overcoat Of tender Mister Mouse, The pretty creatures go with haste To the sunlit blue-grass hills Where the Flower of Mending yields the wax And webs to help their ills. The hour the coats are waxed and webbed They fall into a dream, And when they wake the ragged robes Are joined without a seam. My heart is but a dragon-fly, My heart is but a mouse, My heart is but a haughty snail In a little stony house. Your hand was honey-comb to heal, Your voice a web to bind. You were a Mending Flower to me To cure my heart and mind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FONTAINEBLEAU (AUTUMN) by SARA TEASDALE NOBODY KNOWS BUT MOTHER by MARY MORRISON THE END OF THE PLAY by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 10. ROSES ALL THE WAY by T. BAKER TO CHILDREN: 6. BIRDS OF THE AIR by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ASPIRATIONS: 4 by MATHILDE BLIND |