The Unperfected.

A poem by Rose Hawthorne Lathrop

A broken mirror in a trembling hand;
Sad, trembling lips that utter broken thought:
One of a wide and wandering, aimless band;
One in the world who for the world hath naught.

A heart that loves beyond the shallow word;
A heart well loved beyond its flowerless worth:
One who asks God to answer the prayer heard;
One from the dust returning to the earth.

Can miracle ne'er make the mirror whole
For one who, seeing, could be nobly bold?
Who could well die, to magnify the soul, -
Whose strength of love will shake the graveyard's mould?

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Unperfected.' by Rose Hawthorne Lathrop

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy