The Poetry Corner

The Passing Of A Heart.

By James Whitcomb Riley

O touch me with your hands - For pity's sake! My brow throbs ever on with such an ache As only your cool touch may take away; And so, I pray You, touch me with your hands! Touch - touch me with your hands. - Smooth back the hair You once caressed, and kissed, and called so fair That I did dream its gold would wear alway, And lo, to-day - O touch me with your hands! Just touch me with your hands, And let them press My weary eyelids with the old caress, And lull me till I sleep.Then go your way, That Death may say: He touched her with his hands.