DESPAIRING and alone,
Where mountain winds make moan,
My days are spent:
Each sacred wood and cave
Is a forgotten grave
Where none lament.
This is my native sod,
But to a stranger God
My people pray;
Till to myself I seem
A scarce remembered dream
When morn is gray.
I know not what I seek;
My heart is cold and weak,
My eyes are dim:
Across the vale I hear
An anthem glad and clear,
The Christians’ hymn.
Oh, Christ, to whom they sing,
Thou art not yet the King
Of this wild spot;
I am too weary now
At new-made shrines to bow;
I know Thee not.
They say, when death is o’er
Man lives for evermore
In heaven or hell;
They call Thee Love and Light:
Alas! they may be right,
I cannot tell.
But if in truth Thou live,
If to mankind Thou give
Life, motion, breath;
If Love and Light Thou be,
No longer torture me,
But grant me death.
Give me not heaven, but rest;
In earth’s all-sheltering breast
Hide me from scorn:
The gods I served are slain;
My life is lived in vain;
Why was I born?
Gone is the ancient race;
Earth has not any place
For such as I:
Nothing is true but grief;
I have outlived belief,
Then let me die.
These dim, deserted skies
To aged heart and eyes
No comfort give:
Woe to my hoary head!
Woe! for the gods are dead,
And yet I live.
(Constance Naden)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Life Poems, Light Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Heaven Poems, Christianity Poems, Place Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Art Poems, Belief & Faith Poems, Jesus Christ PoemsBased on Keywords: outlived, all-sheltering