05.05.2012, 16:33
To A Fellow-Traveller
[Alice Marion Sampson, who died at the age of twenty-three, on August 23, 1896, a few days after the Sonnet was written. She was remarkable for sweetness of disposition, strength of intellect, and nobility of character.]
TOGETHER, comrade, o'er the same rough way
We travel, thou and I, yet know right well
That roughest ways to faithful travellers tell
Of fairest lands beyond, wherein shall they
Have respite sweet from peril and dismay
And all the woes that ever yet befell
All who, like thee, their toiling steps compel
Through pain and darkness unto peace and day. -
Look up then, sister, from the weary path!
Methinks that yonder groves and flowers I see,
And golden light on many a grassy lea:
Look up, my sister, one short hour be brave,
For see! no hindrance more the journey hath
Than one poor ditch no wider than a grave.
[Alice Marion Sampson, who died at the age of twenty-three, on August 23, 1896, a few days after the Sonnet was written. She was remarkable for sweetness of disposition, strength of intellect, and nobility of character.]
TOGETHER, comrade, o'er the same rough way
We travel, thou and I, yet know right well
That roughest ways to faithful travellers tell
Of fairest lands beyond, wherein shall they
Have respite sweet from peril and dismay
And all the woes that ever yet befell
All who, like thee, their toiling steps compel
Through pain and darkness unto peace and day. -
Look up then, sister, from the weary path!
Methinks that yonder groves and flowers I see,
And golden light on many a grassy lea:
Look up, my sister, one short hour be brave,
For see! no hindrance more the journey hath
Than one poor ditch no wider than a grave.