Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground.
Why do you stand, expectant?
Do you hope to see it
In one of your withered days?
With your old eyes
Do you hope to see
The triumphal march of justice?
Do not wait, friend!
Take your white beard
And your old eyes
To more tender lands.

Added: on March 25th, 2008 at 11:17 AM | Viewed: 3959 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Stephen Crane (Stephen Crane Art)
Poem: 64. Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground
Volume: The Black Riders & Other Lines
Year: Published/Written in 1905
Poem of the Day: Feb 7 2002

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