AWEARY, wounded unto death, -- Unfavored of men's eyes, I have a house not made with hands, Eternal, in the skies. A house where but the steps of faith Through the white light have trod, Steadfast among the mansions of The City of our God. There never shall the sun go down From the lamenting day; There storms shall never rise to beat The light of love away. There living streams through deathless flowers Are flowing free and wide; There souls that thirsted here below Drink, and are satisfied. I know my longing shall be filled When this weak, wasting clay Is folded like a garment from My soul, and laid away. I know it by th' immortal hopes That wrestle down my fear, -- By all the awful mysteries That hide heaven from us here. Oh what a blissful heritage On such as I to fall; Possessed of thee, my Lord and God, I am possessed of all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AULD ROBIN GRAY by ANNE LINDSAY A DREAM OF DEATH by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS BEGGAR TO BEGGAR CRIED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE END OF THE WORLD by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON YOUR NEIGHBOR by H. HOWARD BIGGAR UP TO ME by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE MARCH'S DAUGHTER by MAUDE PHILIPS BOARD |