footstep's

Updated: May 9, 2025

And, sister, mine the lips that called thee bride. Mine were the silvered locks thy hand caressed, That faithful hand, my faltering footstep's guide! Each changing form, frail vesture of decay, The soul unclad forgets it once hath worn, Stained with the travel of the weary day, And shamed with rents from every wayside thorn.

Oliver Wendell Holmes - The Poet at the Breakfast-Table

And, sister, mine the lips that called thee bride. Mine were the silvered locks thy hand caressed, That faithful hand, my faltering footstep's guide! Each changing form, frail vesture of decay, The soul unclad forgets it once hath worn, Stained with the travel of the weary day, And shamed with rents from every wayside thorn.

Oliver Wendell Holmes - Complete Project Gutenberg Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. Works