 | Gathered leaves |  |
282
TO ONE WHO WAS NURSING A BLIND FATHER
The other dayI thought and thought and ever thought again,
How, while I sat in joy, apart from men,
In perfect joy of sun and sea and air,
You sat within the reach of nothing fair,
In darkness with the darkened. Then and there
Intolerable pity broke in prayer
Hushed by a whisper those wild words above:
‘How dar'st thou pity whom I greatly love.’
| Gathered leaves | |