The Mind
LXIV. Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground
From The Black Riders and Other Lines (1895)
The Mind
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.
Cite this poem
MLA
Crane, Stephen. “LXIV. Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/crane/63/.
Chicago
Crane, Stephen. “LXIV. Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/crane/63/.
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