I would but only this: I wish that I could go And see the thing that is, And, seeing, better know;
And take things in my hand And find if false or fit; But in this far-off land What hope is there of it?
There is no hope of it; I see but sad despair, Unless it may be writ God cureth care by care.
So one in prison thrust; He ages span by span, But in the prison dust Becomes a better man.
So one is blind from birth; All day he sitteth still; He cannot see the earth, But heaven when he will.
I thought that I might rise And, looking to the stars, Lift up my blinded eyes And bless God unawares,
In words whose merit this— Poor buds of blighting air— To know no loveliness But breathe the scent of prayer;
Since Heaven hath decreed Who suffers lives with God, And he who writes indeed Must write in his own blood
I thought, tho’ fetter’d fast, I yet might move my hands To cast or to recast Some labour—sift the sands
For knowledge—search the vast Some hidden hope to find— Perhaps to help at last The cause of humankind.
O hope abandon’d! Not In me the worth or wit. God gave this lowly lot Because I merit it.
In humble ways I move Myself to little things; The heated hands I prove, I watch the light that springs
Or fades in fever’d eyes; My only solace here, Not to be rich or wise But to have done with fear.
God sees the silent space Where footstep never trod; And in the lonely place The listener is God.
Deep, deep in league with Fate, Fate fast in league with Sorrow, And Sorrow with my state, I would that I could borrow,
O Deep, a depth from thee, O Fate, thy fixèd calm, O Sorrow, what to me Thou givest not, thy balm;
That I might worthier show A scorn of your controls, And let Misfortune know Iron chains make iron souls.
If chain’d we could but take Contagion from the steel, And wisdom’s mantle shake Around us head to heel,
And chill the eyes and rest No longer violent, The steel, still more imprest, Would banish discontent.
The strongest chains are burst When we have done with care; A joy lives in the worst, A gladness in despair.
So when great clouds all night Hold high debate of thunder In awful tones that fright The huddled cities under;
And roar their rage and move About the breadths of space, And sudden flashes prove The madness in their face;