O soul, can'st thou not understand Thou art not left alone, As a dog to howl and moan His master's absence? Thou art as a book Left in a room that He forsook, But returns to by and by, A book of His dear choice,- That quiet waiteth for His Hand, That quiet waiteth for His Eye, That quiet waiteth for His Voice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SILENCES IN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON WINTER NIGHT by CH'IEN WEN OF LIANG A COMPARISON by WILLIAM COWPER BRONX, 1818 by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE DOROTHY Q; A FAMILY PORTRAIT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES |