My soul is driven from the good I seek And empty of the perfect love I crave. I would I knew what god hath power to save, And unto him mine anguish I would speak. Not thou, Lord Jesus, loving men and meek: Thee I can follow only to thy grave, With hot, vain tears thy sacred wounds to lave, I can not follow thee to Tabor's peak. Not thou, dark Fate, to whom the wicked pray: My will is better than my destiny, And, though my life is bound, my love is free. Nor thou, frail Venus, rising from the spray And tasting of the bitter changeful sea; Thy smile is idle on so sad a day. Death, wouldst thou help, if I should call on thee? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND WRITING ON CABARET DANCERS by EZRA POUND TO JOANNA, ON SENDING ME THE LEAF OF A FLOWER ... WORDSWORTH'S GARDEN by BERNARD BARTON SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE by WILLIAM BASSE PSALM 133 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE TRAGIC MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS: 1 by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY |