Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
Then with cracked hands that ached
From labor in the weekday weather made
Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
And slowly I would rise and dress,
Fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
Who had driven out the cold
And polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
Of love's austere and lonely offices?
The repetition of ‘What did I know, what did I know’ is dramatic and draws the reader to the emotional climax. It is not clear if this means that the child is trying to excuse himself, to justify his lack of responsiveness because he was so young. Or is it a statement of guilt for the sin of omission, implying that, though young, he should have known better. 
 If read aloud this line could be given enormous emotional heft. The poem would work well in performance.
Those Winter Sundays