INTO the woods my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent. Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him: The thorn-tree had a mind to Him When into the woods He came. Out of the woods my Master went, And He was well content. Out of the woods my Master came, Content with death and shame. When Death and Shame would woo Him last, From under the trees they drew Him last: 'Twas on a tree they slew Him -- last When out of the woods He came. BALTIMORE, November, 1880. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY CHRISTMAS by GEORGE HERBERT PLACES: 2. FULL MOON (SANTA BARBARA) by SARA TEASDALE THE SONNET by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE FEILIRE OF ADAMNAN by ADAMNAN SHRODON FEAR: THE VU'ST PEART by WILLIAM BARNES LEISTON ABBEY by BERNARD BARTON |