A point of life between my Parent's dust,
And yours, my buried Little-ones! am I;
And to those graves looking habitually
In kindred quiet I repose my trust.
Death to the innocent is more than just,
And, to the sinner, mercifully bent;
So may I hope, if truly I repent
And meekly bear the ills which bear I must:
And You, my Offspring! that do still remain,
Yet may outstrip me in the appointed race,
If e'er, through fault of mine, in mutual pain
We breathed together for a moment's space,
The wrong, by love provoked, let love arraign,
And only love keep in your hearts a place.
In Sight Of The Town Of Cockermouth
William Wordsworth
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Poem topics: I love you, death, hope, life, pain, space, together, trust, innocent, mutual, place, moment, fault, wrong, remain, dust, point, quiet, parent, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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