Classic Poem

LOVE AND LIFE

Thy hand I press,
And am not much afraid:
Though danger lie in wait in every glade,
Thou, Love, hast might to comfort and caress
My helplessness.

The way is steep;
But thou wilt soothe its pain;
And when at last the utmost height we gain,
To the soft shelter of thy wings I'll creep,
And sleep — and sleep.

The way is long;
But though I wearied be,
Still gazing upward, I shall gaze on thee;
And thy angelic voice, more sweet than song,
Will make me strong.

Whate'er betide,
I, Love, — who may not know
Whence I have journeyed, nor the way I go, —
Am still content to follow at thy side,
O deathless guide!