Lord, when Thou seest that my work is done, Let me not linger on, With failing powers, Adown the weary hours, -- A workless worker in a world of work. But, with a word, Just bid me home, And I will come Right gladly, -- Yea, right gladly Will I come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN BURYING GROUND by PHILIP FRENEAU SONNET: 8. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY by JOHN MILTON POPPY: FANTASTIC EXTRAVAGANCE by FRANCIS THOMPSON A VOICE PROPHETIC by WALT WHITMAN ETERNITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |