Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground. Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes Do you hope to see The triumphal march of justice? Do not wait, friend! Take your white beard And your old eyes To more tender lands. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON TALK OF PEACE AT THIS TIME by ROBERT FROST UTOPIA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE GREAT RACE PASSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MARIANNA ALCOFORANDO by SARA TEASDALE THE BURIED LADY by PAUL VALERY |