MY soul is sad, and much dismayed; See, Lord, what legions of my foes, With fierce Apollyon at their head, My heavenly pilgrimage oppose! See, from the ever-burning lake, How like a smoky cloud they rise! With horrid blasts my soul they shake, With storms of blasphemies and lies. Their fiery arrows reach the mark, My throbbing heart with anguish tear; Each lights upon a kindred spark, And finds abundant fuel there. I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord; OH! I would drive it from my breast, With thy own sharp two-edged sword, Far as the east is from the west. Come, then, and chase the cruel host, Heal the deep wounds I have received! Nor let the powers of darkness boast That I am foiled, and thou art grieved! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MILKING-MAID by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE MORAL FABLES: THE SWALLOW, AND THE OTHER BIRDS by AESOP THE JACKET OF GREY by CAROLINE AUGUSTA BALL THE POET TO HIS GARRET by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER THE DRIED MILLPOND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |