My God, to live: how didst Thou bear to live, Preaching and teaching, toiling to and fro? Few men accepting what Thou hadst to give, Few men prepared to know Thy Face, to see the truth Thou cam'st to show. My God, to die: how didst Thou bear to die That long slow death in weariness of pain? A curse and an astonishment, past by, Pointed at, mocked again, By men for whom Thy blood was shed in vain. Whilst I do hardly bear my easy life, And hardly face my easy-coming death: I turn to flee before the tug of strife; And shrink with troubled breath From sleep, that is not death, Thy Spirit saith. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AMERICA by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE SORROW OF LOVE (2) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE VETERAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A VILLANELLE OF SPRING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE ON THE PICTURE OF A SLEEPING CHILD by VINCENT BOURNE NIMROD: 3 by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH DUTY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: CHANGE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |