He stands, a patient figure, where the crowd Heaves to and fro; a sound is in his ears As of a vexed sea roaring, and he hears In darkness, as a dead man in his shroud. Patient he stands, with age and sorrow bowed, And holds a piteous hat of ancient years; And in his face and gesture there appears The desperate humbleness of poor men proud. What thoughts are his, as, with the inward sight, He sees the glad unheeding Fair go by? Is the long darkness darker for that light, And sorrow nearer when such mirth is night? Patient, alone, he stands from morn to night, Pleading in his reproachful misery. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 22 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING BEFORE ACTION by WILLIAM NOEL HODGSON SUMMER STORM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE CHILD ALONE: 4. PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE BREAKING by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTOWN by WILLIAM BANKER JR. |