Come to me, comrade dear, physician, friend With face austere, and hands that show the seal Of hardy toil, and shoulders wont to feel The honest burdens' weight; with balms that mend The miseries of life—its wounds—and lend The blessings of forgetfulness to heal The maladies of heart and brain, and steal From grief its sting and joy its bitter end. When first we met I spurned the yoke you brought, And looked upon you as a tyrant sent To crush me with an unjust punishment; But now your yoke protects me like a shield, O Labor! and your blessings are revealed As rarer than the stone the ancients sought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHITE NOCTURNE by CONRAD AIKEN HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN HOMING BRAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS AQUATINT FRAMED IN GOLD by AMY LOWELL IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |