IN the lust of my strength I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me: I might as well have cursed the stars. In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute And I cursed God for my suffering; Still He paid no attention to me; He left me alone, as He had always done. I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple. Then, as I grew weaker, a terror came over me: Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him. One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God, So I tried to make friends with Him; But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet. Now I was very close to the secret, For I really could make friends with the bouquet By holding close to me the love in me for the bouquet And so I was creeping upon the secret, but -- | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VISIONARY by EMILY JANE BRONTE PASSING BY by THOMAS FORD (1580-1648) THE LAY OF THE BROWN ROSARY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 109 by BLISS CARMAN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. BY LAKE WACHUSETT by EDWARD CARPENTER |