Poem by Helen Hunt Jackson

Doubt

     They bade me cast the thing away,
They pointed to my hands all bleeding,
They listened not to all my pleading;
     The thing I meant I could not say;
     I knew that I should rue the day
     If once I cast that thing away.

     I grasped it firm, and bore the pain;
The thorny husks I stripped and scattered;
If I could reach its heart, what mattered
     If other men saw not my gain,
     Or even if I should be slain?
     I knew the risks; I chose the pain.

     Oh, had I cast that thing away,
I had not found what most I cherish,
A faith without which I should perish, -
     The faith which, like a kernel, lay
     Hid in husks which on that day
     My instinct would not throw away!

1. The Way to Sing
2. Outward Bound
3. Poppies on the Wheat
4. Best
5. The End of Harvest

Sara Teasdale Doubt ("My soul lives in my body's house")

Print

1716 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version