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Poem by Eleanor Farjeon


A Song


It means so little to you
To sing a note as you pass,
To smile your thanks to the day
For donning its cloudless blue
And then to go your way,
And leave behind in the grass
The print of your little shoe
Or a petal dropt from your rose
And your touch on the vine that grows
Over my cottage door:
It is nothing at all to you.

But to me, it is alms to the poor,
And the light of day to the blind,
And hope to the desolate;
Though you never have once glanced through
The window where, half-defined,
Half-hidden, I watch and wait--
For it means so little to you.



Eleanor Farjeon


Eleanor Farjeon's other poems:
  1. Sonnets. 12. I hear love answer: Since within the mesh
  2. Three Miles to Penn
  3. Sonnets. 9. Love Needs not Two the Render It Complete
  4. Two Choruses from Merlin in Broceliande
  5. Sonnets. 13.Thy Glance Is Lovelier Than the Glance of the Moon


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Mark Akenside A Song ("The Shape alone let others prize")
  • William Davenant A Song ("O thou that sleep'st like pig in straw")
  • Edwin Arnold A Song ("Once and only once you gave")
  • George Crabbe A Song ("As Chloe fair, a new-made bride")
  • Robert Binyon A Song ("For Mercy, Courage, Kindness, Mirth")
  • Richard Crashaw A Song ("Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace")
  • Oliver Holmes A Song ("WHEN the Puritans came over")
  • Lizette Reese A Song ("Oh, Love, he went a-straying")
  • Helen Williams A Song ("No riches from his scanty store")

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