For all, I thank Thee, I, the meek remitter: For passion's secret torments without end, The kiss of venom, and the tears too bitter, The vengeful enemy, the slanderous friend, The spirit's ardor on the desert squandered, For every lash of life's deceiving thong; I thank Thee for the wastes where I have wandered: But heed Thou, that I need not thank Thee long. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STROLLER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 27. LOVE, AND NEVER FEAR by THOMAS CAMPION SESTINA OF THE TRAMP ROYAL by RUDYARD KIPLING A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE TO CHARLOTTE PULTENEY [IN HER MOTHER'S ARMS] by AMBROSE PHILIPS IMPROMPTU LINES ON JULY FOURTH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |