Flower o' the thorn :: :: University of Virginia Library

PAUL, when the fable of Christ crucified
He dreamt, into the desert from the throng
Of men withdrew himself and three years long
Did with the sands and solitudes abide,
Wrestling in loneliness with lust and pride

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And wearying to sift out right from wrong,
Till in his heart faith flowered high and strong
And forth he fared, to sow it far and wide.
—Not so with thee, my soul! Though years, not three,
But three score, in Life's deserts hast thou dwelt
And watched the dull suns rise and set and felt
The sand-wind scorch the marrow up in thee,
Yet in thy core no faith hath flowered out,
No certitude of aught save only doubt.