FOR ALL THE GRIEF
Reading edition
For all the grief I have given with words May now a few clear flowers blow, In the dust, and the heat, and the silence of birds, Where the lonely go.
For the thing unsaid that heart asked of me Be a dark, cool water calling—calling To the footsore, benighted, solitary, When the shadows are falling.
O, be beauty for all my blindness, A moon in the air where the weary wend, And dews burdened with loving-kindness In the dark of the end.