TURN your face this way; I'm not weary of it -- Every hour of every day More and more I love it -- Grinning in that jolly guise Of bare bones and empty eyes! Was this hollow dome, Where I tap my finger, Once the spirit's narrow home -- Where you loved to linger, Hiding, as to-day are we, From the selfsame destiny? O'er and o'er again Have I put the query -- Was existence so in vain That you look so cheery? -- Death of such a benefit That you smile, possessing it? Did your throbbing brow Tire of all the flutter Of such fancyings as now You, at last, may utter In that grin so grimly bland Only death can understand? Has the shallow glee Of old dreams of pleasure Left you ever wholly free To float out, at leisure, O'er the shoreless, trackless trance Of unsounded circumstance? Only this I read In your changeless features, -- You, at least, have gained a meed Held from living creatures: You have naught to ask. -- Beside, You do grin so satisfied! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEA LOVER by SARA TEASDALE ST. FRANCIS EINSTEIN OF THE DAFFODILS (FIRST VERSION) by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS CELESTIAL HEIGHTS by ALFRED AUSTIN EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 42. AUGMENTED BY FAVOURABLE BLASTS by PHILIP AYRES AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD IN MEMORIAM: J. MACMEIKIN; DIED APRIL 1883 by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |