GRIEVOUS, in sooth, was luckless Sindbad's plight, Saddled with that foul monster of the sea; But who of some soul-harrowing weight is free? And though we veil our woe from public sight, Full many a weary day and dismal night, It chafes our spirits sorely! Yet, for thee, Whate'er, O friend, thy special grief may be, Range thou against it all thy manhood's might. Thus, though thou may'st not smite on brow or breast That irksome incubus, be sure some day The load that blights shall droop and fall away, And thou, because of torture borne so well, Shall pass from out thy long, malign unrest And walk thy future paths invincible! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HERETIC: 2. IRONY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE MYSTIC'S VISION by MATHILDE BLIND THE CALM [CALME] by JOHN DONNE DIXIE by DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT THE LAST MAN: KISSES by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |