Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/67

Rh

HY hand I press,

And am not much afraid:

Though danger lie in wait in every glade,

Thou, Love, hast might to comfort and caress

My helplessness.

The way is steep;

But thou wilt soothe its pain;

And when at last the utmost height we gain,

To the soft shelter of thy wings I'll creep,

And sleep—and sleep.

The way is long;

But though I wearied be,

Still gazing upward, I shall gaze on thee;

And thy angelic voice, more sweet than song,

Will make me strong.

Whate'er betide,

I, Love,—who may not know

Whence I have journeyed, nor the way I go,—

Am still content to follow at thy side,

O deathless guide!