A POOR blind man was traveling one day, The guiding staff from out his hand was gone, And the road crooked, so he lost his way, And the night fell, and a great storm came on. He was not, therefore, troubled and afraid, Nor did he vex the silence with his cries, But on the rainy grass his cheek he laid, And waited for the morning sun to rise. Saying to his heart, -- Be still, my heart, and wait, For if a good man happen to go by, He will not leave us to our dark estate And the cold cover of the storm, to die; But he will sweetly take us by the hand, And lead us back into the straight highway; Full soon the clouds will have evanished, and All the wide east be blazoned with the day. And we are like that blind man, all of us, -- Benighted, lost! But while the storm doth fall Shall we not stay our sinking hearts up, thus, -- Above us there is One who sees it all; And if His name be Love, as we are told, He will not leave us to unequal strife; But to that city with the streets of gold Bring us, and give us everlasting life. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW YEAR'S EVE by GEORGE ARNOLD THE PILGRIM SHIP by KATHARINE LEE BATES TO A DYING CLASS by ANGELO PHILIP BERTOCCI MISAPPELLATION by STEPHANIE L. BINCKLI WILLIAM COWPER by WILLIAM BLAKE FRAGRANCE by MAGDELEN EDEN BOYLE ONE THING by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |