OUT-WEARIED with the littleness and spite, The falsehood and the treachery of men, I cried, give me but justice, thinking then I meekly craved a common boon which might Most easily be granted; soon the light Of deeper truth grew on my wondering ken, (Escaped baneful damps of stagnant fen,) And then I saw, that in my pride bedight I claim'd from erring man the gift of Heaven -- God's own great vested right; and I grew calm, With folded hands like stone to patience given, And pityings of pure love-distilling balm; -- And now I wait in quiet trust to be All known to God, -- and ask of men, sweet Charity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1839) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS OLD OSAWATOMIE by CARL SANDBURG THE STRAPLESS by KAREN SWENSON A MINUET OF MOZART'S by SARA TEASDALE |