SOUL, dwelling oft in God's infinitude, And sometimes seeming no more part of me -- This me, worms' heritage -- than that sun can be Part of the earth he has with warmth imbued, -- Whence camest thou? whither goest thou? I, subdued With awe of mine own being -- thus sit still, Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill, Whose dry November-grasses dew-bestrewed Mirror a million suns -- That sun, so bright, Passes, as thou must pass, Soul, into night: Art thou afraid, who solitary hast trod A path I know not, from a source to a bourne, Both which I know not? fear'st thou to return Alone, even as thou camest, alone, to God? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DECISION (APRIL 14, 1861) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE GOOD SHEPHERD by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO ARE THE CHILDREN AT HOME? by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER GREATER LOVE by ANTIPATER OF SIDON |