Poetry Archives

If in my arms I bore my child,
  Would he cry out for fear
Because the night was dark and wild
  And no one else was near?

Shall I then treat thee, Father, as
  My fatherhood would grieve?
I will be hopeful, though, alas,
  I cannot quite believe!

I had no power, no wish to be:
  Thou madest me half blind!
The darkness comes! I cling to thee!
  Be thou my perfect mind.