Classic Poem

Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap
— That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;
— Saying, " She is most wise, patient and kind.
Between the small hands folded in her lap
Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,
— And find forgiveness where the shadows stir
About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,
— Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!". . .

She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
— So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
— She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
— — And open wide upon that holy air
The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
— — Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.

Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap
— That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;
— Saying, " She is most wise, patient and kind.
Between the small hands folded in her lap
Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,
— And find forgiveness where the shadows stir
About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,
— Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!". . .

She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
— So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
— She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
— — And open wide upon that holy air
The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
— — Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.

Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap
— That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind;
— Saying, " She is most wise, patient and kind.
Between the small hands folded in her lap
Surely a shamed head may bow down at length,
— And find forgiveness where the shadows stir
About her lips, and wisdom in her strength,
— Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!". . .

She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
— So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
— She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
— — And open wide upon that holy air
The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
— — Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.