OUT of our pain and struggle, "Up from our grief and dole, We are swift to cry to the Healer For the touch that makes us whole. Alas! we are not so ready, In the day of our joy and crown, With the palms and the fragrant incense Laid at His altar down. And how it must grieve the Master That His own are so slow to praise, In the flush of their peace and gladness, The goodness which brims the days! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORNING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 6. YEUX GLAUQUES by EZRA POUND TO A LADY TO ANSWER DIRECTLY WITH YEA OR NAY by THOMAS WYATT SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 27. ENGLAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) TWILIGHT TIME by ANNA MCINTOSH BEVILLE THE LAST NIGHT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY FO'C'S'LE YARNS: ENVOY. GO BACK! by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |