WHEN I was sick, how patiently thou sat'st beside my bed; When I was faint, how lovingly thine arm upheld my head; When I was wearied out with pain, perverse in misery, How ready was thy watchful aid my wishes to supply! And @3thou@1 art sick, and @3thou@1 art weak, and @3thou@1 art rack'd with pain, But cheerful still, untamed of ill, does yet thy heart remain: And have I nursed and tended thee since first thy griefs began? Forgive, forgive, my -------, the selfishness of man! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STANZAS FOR MUSIC (4) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LAUSANNE: IN GIBBON'S OLD GARDEN by THOMAS HARDY THE WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA by ALFRED TENNYSON ONCE & EVER by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PSALM 16. CONSERVA ME by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE MADMAN I HAVE BEEN CALLED by WILLIAM BLAKE THE ALLIGATOR by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |