No sickness of the flesh is ours today Whose time is spent in grieving and despairing; Who pray all night that night will pass away''" Who greet the dawn rebelliously, uncaring. Withered and parched by unbelief, the soul Impossible, unbearable things is bearing. We are lost men, and ruin is our goal, Athirst for faith, to beg for faith not daring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JUDGE NOT by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER PASSAGE TO INDIA by WALT WHITMAN RECOGNITION by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 49. FAREWELL TO JULIET (11) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE CHILD AND HIND by THOMAS CAMPBELL CRUCIFIXUS PRO NOBIS: 2. CHRIST IN THE GARDEN by PATRICK CAREY SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 117 by BLISS CARMAN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AFTER THE DAY'S WORK by EDWARD CARPENTER |