A BEGGAR through the world am I, -- From place to place I wander by. Fill up my pilgrim's scrip for me, For Christ's sweet sake and charity! A little of thy steadfastness, Rounded with leafy gracefulness, Old oak, give me, -- That the world's blasts may round me blow, And I yield gently to and fro, While my stout-hearted trunk below And firm-set roots unshaken be. Some of thy stern, unyielding might, Enduring still through day and night Rude tempest-shock and withering blight, -- That I may keep at bay The changeful April sky of chance And the strong tide of circumstance, -- Give me, old granite gray, Some of thy pensiveness serene, Some of thy never-dying green, Put in this scrip of mine, -- That griefs may fall like snow-flakes light, And deck me in a robe of white, Ready to be an angel bright, -- O sweetly mournful pine. A little of thy merriment, Of thy sparkling, light content, Give me, my cheerful brook, -- That I may still be full of glee And gladsomeness, where'er I be, Though fickle fate hath prisoned me In some neglected nook. Ye have been very kind and good To me, since I've been in the wood; Ye have gone nigh to fill my heart; But good by, kind friends, every one, I've far to go ere set of sun; Of all good things I would have part, The day was high ere I could start, And so my journey's scarce begun. Heaven help me! how could I forget To beg of thee, dear violet! Some of thy modesty, That blossoms here as well, unseen, As if before the world thou 'dst been, O, give, to strengthen me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD MILL by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH BRAID CLAITH by ROBERT FERGUSSON ASKING FOR ROSES by ROBERT FROST |