Author Robert Crawford The little feet that run to me, The little hands that strive To touch me at the heart, and find The heart in me alive: Oh God! if hands and feet should fail, If Death his mist should fling Between my heart and the touch of The little living thing! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments