My soul is driven from the good I seek And empty of the perfect love I crave. I would I knew what god hath power to save, And unto him mine anguish I would speak. Not thou, Lord Jesus, loving men and meek: Thee I can follow only to thy grave, With hot, vain tears thy sacred wounds to lave, I can not follow thee to Tabor's peak. Not thou, dark Fate, to whom the wicked pray: My will is better than my destiny, And, though my life is bound, my love is free. Nor thou, frail Venus, rising from the spray And tasting of the bitter changeful sea; Thy smile is idle on so sad a day. Death, wouldst thou help, if I should call on thee? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO WORDSWORTH by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING OF MEZERAY'S HISTORY OF FRANCE by MATTHEW PRIOR ODE TO THE WEST WIND by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |