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Thee Only IF now anew the search were to be made For One to guide me onward through the gloom Of this dim world wherein I walk afraid; — If, like a child left in an empty room, Homesick, alone, the silence like a tomb, I went forth weeping, and should hear one say, "Here, child!" another, "Yonder is the way!" Another,"Come with me! Why care with whom?" — I do not think I could mistake Thy call Among ten thousand. Toward Thy voice I grope, Brother, Friend, Lord! although with many a fall, And sore bewilderment, and baffled hope. My needy soul, if ignorant of Thee, Would prophesy Thy coming. Thou must be! Lucy Larcom's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1230 |
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