Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHEN I WAS A REFUGEE, by BEATRICE JEAN K. BOROFF



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WHEN I WAS A REFUGEE, by            
First Line: She clasped my hand, this good samaritan
Last Line: My strength is god. He is my staff, my power.
Subject(s): Kindness; Refugees; Sonnet (As Literary Form)


She clasped my hand, this good Samaritan,
And looked compassionately in my heart;
She felt a kindred grief: we must not part!
Perhaps she claimed descent from Ruth's true clan,
Embracing me in her warm creedless span.
She gave this groping, baffled soul a start;
And strengthened me -- hers was the gracious art --
Rekindling pride in Esther's caravan;
And Moses, bearer of God's covenant,
Revealing Israel's noble heritage.
She brought me courage in my darkest hour!
She clasped my hand -- faith sings its triumph-chant.
My hope restored! Now let the Tyrant rage.
My strength is God. He is my staff, my power.





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