Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) By William Barnes |
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| II. |
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| V. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
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| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
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| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. | SONNET XXIX. THE TRIAL. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
 | Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) |  |
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SONNET XXIX. THE TRIAL.
O that the stormy sea of life would lie
With calmer bosom, through the darksome night
Of ignorance and fear, or that the light
Of truth would burst upon me from on high.
O that the haven of my peace were nigh,
Or that some guiding beacon were in sight,
Or that my Lord would listen to my cry,
And come and steer my erring vessel right.
With calmer bosom, through the darksome night
Of ignorance and fear, or that the light
Of truth would burst upon me from on high.
O that the haven of my peace were nigh,
Or that some guiding beacon were in sight,
Or that my Lord would listen to my cry,
And come and steer my erring vessel right.
Oh! feeble is my bark, my sinking soul;
And great its load; while only error steers
Bewilder'd o'er the wide and stormy main;
And great its load; while only error steers
Bewilder'd o'er the wide and stormy main;
And while for break of dawn I wish in vain,
A wild Euroclydon of hopes and fears
Blows hard and drives me onward on the shoal.
A wild Euroclydon of hopes and fears
Blows hard and drives me onward on the shoal.
| Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) | |