For all, I thank Thee, I, the meek remitter: For passion's secret torments without end, The kiss of venom, and the tears too bitter, The vengeful enemy, the slanderous friend, The spirit's ardor on the desert squandered, For every lash of life's deceiving thong; I thank Thee for the wastes where I have wandered: But heed Thou, that I need not thank Thee long. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER RAIN by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN by WALT WHITMAN THE QUEEN'S RIDE; AN INVITATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE BOOK OF AHANIA by WILLIAM BLAKE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 7 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |