NEAR him she stole, rank after rank; She feared approach too loud; She touched his garment's hem, and shrank Back in the sheltering crowd. A shame-faced gladness thrills her frame: Her twelve years' fainting prayer Is heard at last! she is the same As other women there! She hears his voice. He looks about. Ah! is it kind or good To drag her secret sorrow out Before that multitude? The eyes of men she dares not meet— On her they straight must fall!— Forward she sped, and at his feet Fell down, and told him all. To the one refuge she hath flown, The Godhead's burning flame! Of all earth's women she alone Hears there the tenderest name: "Daughter," he said, "be of good cheer; Thy faith hath made thee whole:" With plenteous love, not healing mere, He comforteth her soul. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE RETURNED GIRLS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS TO THE KING OF THULE by HENRI ALLORGE BENNINGTON by WILLIAM HENRY BABCOCK TO MR. BARBAULD, NOVEMBER 14, 1778 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 2. AND YET by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) VERSES, SUGGESTED BY THE FUNERAL OF AN EPITAPH IN BURY CHURCH-YARD by BERNARD BARTON |