Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FAILURE, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FAILURE, by                    
First Line: "the lord, who fashioned my hands for working"
Last Line: Maybe will pity their strife and loss
Subject(s): Failure;life


THE Lord, who fashioned my hands for working,
Set me a task and it is not done;
I have tried and tried since the early morning,
And now to the westward sinketh the sun.

Noble the task that was kindly given
To one so little and weak as I, --
Somehow my strength would never grasp it,
Never as days and years flew by.

Others found me cheerfully toiling,
Showed me their work as they passed away;
Filled were their hands to overflowing,
Proud were their hearts, and glad and gay.

Laden with harvest spoils they entered
In at the golden gate of their rest;
Laid their sheaves at the feet of the Master,
Found their places among the blest.

Happy are those who strove to help me --
Failing ever in spite of their aid;
Fain would their love have borne me with them
But I was unready and sore afraid.

Now I know my task will never be finished,
And when the Master calleth my name,
His voice will find me still at my labor,
Weeping beside it in weary shame.

With empty hands I shall rise to meet him,
And when he looks for the fruit of years,
Nothing have I to lay before him
But broken efforts and bitter tears.

Yet when he calls I fain would hasten --
Mine eyes are dim and their light is gone;
And I am weary as though I carried
A burden of beautiful work well done.

I will fold my empty hands on my bosom --
Meekly thus, in the shape of a cross;
And the Lord, who made me so frail and feeble,
Maybe will pity their strife and loss.





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