I COME from a long journey and a sore, My feet are bleeding where the thorns have pressed, Yet have I passed by many an open door -- (Only within your arms may I find rest.) I come from sound of little souls at play, From empty laughter that may never cease, From joys grown hideous and mirth grown gray -- (Only within your arms may I find peace.) I come a wanderer who naught may bring Of any gladness from the road he went, Save one sad heart that cries your comforting -- (Only within your arms is my content.) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE THIRD DAY: SCANDERBERG by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD; DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY RETIREMENT: AN ODE by JAMES BEATTIE WE GO ON by NELLIE MANLEY BUCK SPECIAL MESSAGE TO THE VERMONT LEGISLATURE by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |