Classic Poem

What once to me was fierce and sweet
Is bitter now: the road my feet
Took once in such gay hardihood
My spirit cannot compass it.

And the old sin I huggled once
Is now grown easy to renounce,
So to the source of power and peace
Backward my erring spirit runs.

Now to the hills whence help may come,
Where wild bees shape their honeycomb,
To a little bed of watercress
I would go back … I would go home.