ALL the time my soul is calling, "Whither, whither do I go?" For my days like leaves are falling From my tree of life below. Who will come and be my lover! Who is strong enough to save, When that I am leaning over The dark silence of the grave? Wherefore should my soul be calling, "Whither, whither do I go?" For my days like leaves are falling In the hand of God, I know. As the seasons touch their ending, As the dim years fade and flee, Let me rather still be sending Some good deed to plead for me. Then, though none should stay to weep me, Lover-like, within the shade, He will hold me, He will keep me, And I will not be afraid. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ARCHITECT AT THE EDGE OF THE SEA by KAREN SWENSON A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW DELIGHT IN DISORDER by ROBERT HERRICK THE PHILOSOPHER TOAD by REBECCA S. REED NICHOLS THE OTHER WORLD by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 12. ON RECOVERING FROM A FIT OF SICKNESS IN COUNTRY by MARK AKENSIDE FECUNDI CALICES by BACCHYLIDES |