TO the house of the widow, Where she wept alone, There came a kind woman To the cold hearthstone: @3God touches His own,@1 she said,— @3God touches His own.@1 Her tears fell so softly Without sigh or moan: @3God touches His own,@1 she said, @3'Tis well with His own. What is grief? What is Death?@1 she said,— @3God touches His own.@1 In the desolate Winter day Ere she was gone, She turned once again to say At the threshold stone: @3What is life? What's the world?@1 she said,— @3God touches His own.@1 The wind from over the bogs Like an echo blown, Brought back the word she had said: @3God touches His own. What is grief? What is Death?@1 she said,— @3God touches His own.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CREDO by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE PATRIOT; AN OLD STORY by ROBERT BROWNING THE DEIL'S AWA WI' TH' EXCISEMAN by ROBERT BURNS THE SHRUBBERY, WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION by WILLIAM COWPER ON A BOY'S FIRST READING OF THE PLAY OF 'KING HENRY THE FIFTH' by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL THE DREAM THAT CRACKED A WHIP by FRANCES AIRTH |