Weeping, weary, did I wander Thro' the world's wide weird wood; Wet my cheeks with drops of sorrow; Wet my soles with drops of blood; Tumbling here, and stumbling yonder, Bramble-bruised, with thorns all torn, For the path I groped despairing, For a light I sighed forlorn. But thou took'st me, strong and tender, Oh my master, by the hand; Pity, cheer, reproach, and rousing In thy words did sweetly blend. Tho' the way is wild as ever, Still I falter not, nor fear; Led by thee, I'll pierce the forest, See the vaulting skies appear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING AN ANCIENT PROPHECY by PHILIP FRENEAU THE GOOD SHEPHERD by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO A LETTER FROM A GIRL TO HER OWN OLD AGE by ALICE MEYNELL THE BARD'S EXCUSE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 7. MIDSUMMER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM LILIES: 18. A PICTURE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |