ALONE with Thee, who canst not be alone, At midnight, in Thine everlasting day; Lo, less than naught, of nothingness undone, I, prayerless, pray! Behold -- and with Thy bitterness make sweet, What sweetest is in bitterness to hide -- Like Magdalen, I grovel at Thy feet, In lowly pride. Smite, till my wounds beneath Thy scourging cease; Soothe, till my heart in agony hath bled; Nor rest my soul with enmity at peace, Till Death be dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO MRS. THRALE [ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR] by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) THE TWINS by HENRY SAMBROOKE LEIGH THE PHANTOM SHIP by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 54. LOVE'S FATALITY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SONNET: 116 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |