Jeffrey Hull
Friday, November 09, 2007
Pilgrim
I am a lonely pilgrim,
A pilgrim's lot I share,
To wander through this valley
And often taste despair;
To miss some rocky foothold
And stumble from the way,
Or lose the track in darkness
When night has swallowed day.
I heard a fair voice calling
From far the other side
Across a quiet river
That ran both deep and wide;
It beckoned me, or warned me—
My ears could scarcely tell—
Sang soft some voice of heaven,
Or growled some fiend of hell?
Thus in a failing twilight
I stood upon the bank
And bled out my resistance
As fear my courage drank.
Then whispered low my Master,
His voice devoid of wrath;
With grasp as soft as morning
He set me on the path.
© 2007 Jeffrey Hull