Records and Other Poems By the late Robert Leighton |
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THE BLUE-EYED CALF. |
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 | Records and Other Poems |  |
174
THE BLUE-EYED CALF.
A blue-eyed calf—as feeble as a shadow—
Comes through our streets at noon. To living breath
It came this morn, but knows nor milk nor meadow—
Driven from birth to death!
Comes through our streets at noon. To living breath
It came this morn, but knows nor milk nor meadow—
Driven from birth to death!
What money-value in a thing so tender?
Yet men of slaughter quarrel for the prize.
How innocent of purchaser or vendor,
Those unpolluted eyes!
Yet men of slaughter quarrel for the prize.
How innocent of purchaser or vendor,
Those unpolluted eyes!
It looks untroubled through the troubled city;
It looks as if its life might never end;
It looks into my soul more thoughtful pity
Than soul may comprehend.
It looks as if its life might never end;
It looks into my soul more thoughtful pity
Than soul may comprehend.
I have no striking moral for my picture,
But only fix the outlines ere they melt,
Content to leave it open to thy stricture
If thou feel what I felt.
But only fix the outlines ere they melt,
Content to leave it open to thy stricture
If thou feel what I felt.
| Records and Other Poems | |