Classic Poem

Life , we, thy children, cling about thy knees
And pray for largess; some are babes that turn
Sweet faces, sure of answer, yet to learn
That suns may shine and they be left to freeze;
And some cast fiercely at thee words that burn,
Or all thy steps with bitter 'plainings tease;
And some, grown mute from many unheard pleas,
Go from thee, looking back with eyes that yearn.
What charm is in unmotherly caprice
That, rather than be led to endless peace,
We court, on bended knee, thy constant frown—
Ay, even invite the smiting of thy hand,
So we stay with thee? Shall we understand
When thou hast loosed our fingers from thy gown?