I COME to thee blind, despairing, I grope where I may not see: Love, thou worker of miracles, Open my eyes for me. I come to thee deaf, unheeding, Beggared of sound and voice: Love, thou maker of marvels, Bid me hear and rejoice. I come to thee shunned -- a leper, Scorned in the sight of men: Love, whose pardon is cleansing, Make thou me clean again. Love, thou worker of miracles, Maker of marvels sweet, Love, whose pardon is cleansing, These my tears on thy feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN IN NORTHAMPTON COUNTY ASYLUM by JOHN CLARE ON THE DEATH OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN by PHILIP FRENEAU THE HOUND OF HEAVEN by FRANCIS THOMPSON MARGARET'S SONG by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE AFTER THE SOIREE by F. R. D. B. IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: CONDEMNED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |