A WEARY Traveller walk'd his way, With grief and want and pain opprest: His looks were sad, his locks were grey: He sought for food, he sigh'd for rest. A wealthy grazier pass'd -- -- 'Attend,' The sufferer cried -- 'some aid allow:' -- 'Thou art not of my parish, Friend; Nor am I in mine office now.' He dropt, and more impatient pray'd -- A mild adviser heard the word: 'Be patient, Friend!' he kindly said, 'And wait the leisure of the Lord.' Another comes! -- 'Turn, stranger, turn!' 'Not so!' replied a voice: 'I mean The candle of the Lord to burn With mine own flock on Save-all Green; 'To war with Satan, thrust for thrust; To gain my lamb he led astray; The Spirit drives me: on I must -- Yea, woe is me, if I delay!' But WOMAN came! by Heaven design'd To ease the heart that throbs with pain -- She gave relief -- abundant -- kind -- And bade him go in peace again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOD'S GARDEN by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON FETES GALANTES: MANDOLINE by PAUL VERLAINE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 40. AL-MUKIT by EDWIN ARNOLD ANNIVERSARIUM BAPTISMI (3) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT WASTE GROUND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |