I COME from a long journey and a sore, My feet are bleeding where the thorns have pressed, Yet have I passed by many an open door -- (Only within your arms may I find rest.) I come from sound of little souls at play, From empty laughter that may never cease, From joys grown hideous and mirth grown gray -- (Only within your arms may I find peace.) I come a wanderer who naught may bring Of any gladness from the road he went, Save one sad heart that cries your comforting -- (Only within your arms is my content.) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN RIVER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE DEPARTURE OF THE GOOD DAEMON by ROBERT HERRICK UPON JULIA'S BREASTS by ROBERT HERRICK MEMORY OF THE IRISH DEAD by JOHN KELLS INGRAM TO-NIGHT by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON TO CHLOE; AN APOLOGY FOR GOING INTO THE COUNTRY by JOHN WOLCOTT |