 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
221
AT THE GATE.
Faint and trembling, tired and late,
I approach the bolted gate;
And with humbleness sincere,
Knock, and crave admittance here,—
Worn with wanderings long and sore:
Open the door!
I approach the bolted gate;
And with humbleness sincere,
Knock, and crave admittance here,—
Worn with wanderings long and sore:
Open the door!
Asking neither alms nor food,
Only rest and quietude;
Hear, I pray, my humble plaint,—
Never soul so tired and faint
Craved compassion here before:
Open the door!
Only rest and quietude;
Hear, I pray, my humble plaint,—
Never soul so tired and faint
Craved compassion here before:
Open the door!
O, how soft the couch will be,
Folded down so peacefully,
Pillows fair and dainty-white,
Shaded from the tiresome light,
By dim angels hovering o'er:
Open the door!
Folded down so peacefully,
Pillows fair and dainty-white,
Shaded from the tiresome light,
By dim angels hovering o'er:
Open the door!
222
Never on an earthly bed
Was so dainty drapery spread,
Spangled bright with buds and bees,
Broidered with anemones;—
Hear me, Angel, I implore:
Open the door!
Was so dainty drapery spread,
Spangled bright with buds and bees,
Broidered with anemones;—
Hear me, Angel, I implore:
Open the door!
Once I longed for Wealth and Place,
Happiness, and Love's sweet grace,—
Now there lives within my breast
Only this one wish,—for Rest,—
Only Rest,—I ask no more:
Open the door!
Happiness, and Love's sweet grace,—
Now there lives within my breast
Only this one wish,—for Rest,—
Only Rest,—I ask no more:
Open the door!
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |