*With respectful deference to and reverence of The Bard of Avon.
Life, ne'er the primrose path of dalliance for me (and in league with this shady world), like the accused who has no innocence, fleeced me as my tribulations unfurled; deprived and in disgrace with Fortune's eyes, with all hope lost and none at all to care, I implored heaven with my bootless cries, and cursed my fate, crying to God in prayer,— Who saw my afflictions and gave me rest at last, as well as respite and reprieve: all these blessings to which I can attest that spring from His grace (in which I believe). Tho' life's “a thief” and I was “his victim,” God was there to “arrest and convict him!”
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.