This I declare: As I trudge the road Of pain-filled souls with a heavy load— A pilgrim lad, with staff in hand, plodding along through the shifting sand; A patriarch, with flowing beard, troubled o'er the ones he's reared— Eyes fixed intent on a Sacred Page, truth filled with hope for his ripe old age. A woman bent with the toil of years, saying her prayers through a veil of tears; A mother grieved o'er life's hard start with a wayward son who has ached her heart; A father bowed with a heavy toll—sin eating away at his suff'ring soul; A daughter wild—uncouth—unkept, slipping away from where she slept Out into a night of sin and shame—permanent blot on her once good name— I pledge my God I will bear part load Of those who struggle along this road; I'll point a finger toward the skies And say to each: "There's paradise; "Lift up your heads while the eons roll "And purge yourselves from the travail of soul; "Onto your face feel heaven's rain, "Let it remove the sin and stain, "While from the throne of grace on high "A sweet contentment fills your sky." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION OF THE DESIGNS TO BLAIR'S GRAVE: TO THE QUEEN by WILLIAM BLAKE TANAGER by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN SONNET ON MOOR PARK: WRITTEN AT PARIS, MAY 10, 1825 by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES ARCHITECTS by EDITH CLAIRE CAM |