My Shy Hand
MY SHY HAND by WILFRED OWEN
My shy hand shades a hermitage apart,--- O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours. Life there is sweeter held than in God's heart, Stiller than in the heavens of hollow flowers.
The wine is gladder there than in gold bowls. And Time shall not drain thence, nor trouble spill. Sources between my fingers feed all souls, Where thou mayest cool thy lips, and draw thy fill.
Five cushions hath my hand, for reveries; And one deep pillow for thy brow's fatigues; Languor of June all winterlong, and ease For ever from the vain untravelled leagues.
Thither your years may gather in from storm, And Love, that sleepeth there, will keep thee warm.
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|Author||Owen, Wilfred (1893-1918)|
|Title||My Shy Hand|
|Copyright||The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted.|
|First line||My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, ---|
|Publication source||The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen|
|Publication editor||Stallworthy, Jon|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|