THE children bear our froward mood, Patient, enduring still. Our anger like a heat in the blood That strikes with little skill. Because our way is choked with tares And fears beset our sleep; Because we weary Heaven with prayers Lest that the children weep. The children must be warmed and fed, The children most adored: Give them this day their daily bread! What of to-morrow, Lord? Therefore we strike them at their play And grieve their hearts and chill: O Lord, be patient with the clay Thou'st moulded to Thy will. See, Lord, the children understand! Loyal and piteous, They take the wounding from Love's hand. See, Lord,—they bear with us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHARLIE MACHREE by WILLIAM JAMES HOPPIN LINES WRITTEN IN A CITY COMPOSING-ROOM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONNET: 6 by RICHARD BARNFIELD MAN AND WOMAN GO THROUGH THE CANCER WARD by GOTTFRIED BENN JOB 3:3-26. JOB CURSETH THE DAY, AND SERVICES OF HIS BIRTH by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ECHOES OF SPRING: 5 by MATHILDE BLIND |