Page:New poems and variant readings, Stevenson, 1918.djvu/84

64 It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,

In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.

I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,

Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day;

Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old,

And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold.

I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall,

Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all:

The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold

Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold.