Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FRIENDSHIP, by CONSTANCE CAROLINE WOODHILL NADEN Poet's Biography First Line: The human soul that crieth at thy gates Last Line: And that is dead. Subject(s): Friendship | ||||||||
THE human soul that crieth at thy gates, Of man or woman, alien or akin, 'Tis thine own Self that for admission waits -- Rise, let it in. Bid not thy guest but sojourn and depart; Keep him, if so it may be, till the end, If thou have strength and purity of heart To be his friend. Not only, at bright morn, to wake his mind With noble thoughts, and send him forth with song, Nor only, when night falls, his wounds to bind; But all day long To help with love, with labour, and with lore, To triumph when, by others' aid, he wins, To carry all his sorrows, and yet more -- To bear his sins; To keep a second conscience in thine own, Which suffers wound on wound, yet strongly lives, Which takes no bribe of tender look or tone, And yet forgives. But, should some mortal vileness blast with death Thy love for comrade, leader, kinsman, wife -- Seek no elixir to restore false breath, And loathsome life. Thy love is slain -- thou canst not make it whole With all thy store of wine, and oil, and bread: Some passions are but flesh -- thine had a soul, And that is dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOU & I BELONG IN THIS KITCHEN by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JASON THE REAL by TONY HOAGLAND NO RESURRECTION by ROBINSON JEFFERS CHAMBER MUSIC: 17 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 18 by JAMES JOYCE THE STONE TABLE by GALWAY KINNELL ALMSWOMAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO AN ENEMY by MAXWELL BODENHEIM SONNET: 10. TO A FRIEND by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES A LETTER by CONSTANCE CAROLINE WOODHILL NADEN |
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