Poetry Archives

“My life is drear; walking I labour sore;
  The heart in me is heavy as a stone;
And of my sorrows this the icy core:
  Life is so wide, and I am all alone!”

Thou did’st walk so, with heaven-born eyes down bent
  Upon the earth’s gold-rosy, radiant clay,
That thou had’st seen no star in all God’s tent
  Had not thy tears made pools first on the way.

Ah, little knowest thou the tender care
  In a love-plenteous cloak around thee thrown!
Full many a dim-seen, saving mountain-stair
  Toiling thou climb’st—but not one step alone!

Lift but thy languid head and see thy guide;
  Let thy steps go in his, nor choose thine own;
Then soon wilt thou, thine eyes with wonder wide,
  Cry, Now I know I never was alone!