I think that look of Christ might seem to say--
'Thou Peter ! art thou then a common stone
For ever, since my childish looks
Could rest on Nature's pictured books;
For ever, since my childish tongue
Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east,
And one of them shot in the west by the sea.
ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I.
We sit beside the headstone thus,
And wish that name were carved for us.
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering