THY restless feet now cannot go For us and our eternal good, As they were ever wont. What though They swim, alas! in their own flood? Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift, Yet will Thy hand still giving be; It gives, but O, itself's the gift! It gives tho' bound, tho' bound 'tis free! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANECDOTE OF THE JAR by WALLACE STEVENS EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 3. GENOA by ALBERTA BANCROFT SONG: 4 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AN ACTOR'S REMINISCENCES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SARAH THREENEEDLES (BOSTON, 1698) by KATHARINE LEE BATES DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: ISBRAND by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |