AS blind folk groping in a barren land, (Where no green thing may flourish, and around Is naught but desert waste and trackless sand, Where wild birds wail and sad siroccos sound, And velvet-footed leopards pad the ground, Seeking to slay), we went in darkness and In discontent, nor knew the dawn at hand When we might win where all good things abound. But lo! The trumpet of Truth's angel blew; The film was fallen: our rejoicing eyes Saw pleasant places, where the mothering dew Gladdened the grasses and the sweet sunrise Kissed all the hills; then, stout of heart, we strode To our sure haven, down the great white road. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A PALMETTO by SIDNEY LANIER MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL JOHN BROWN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON READY TO KILL by CARL SANDBURG ON A VOLUME OF SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY by GEORGE SANTAYANA |