Servitude Poem by Anne Reeve Aldrich
Servitude
The church was dim at vespers.
My eyes were on the Rood.
But yet I felt thee near me,
In every drop of blood.
In helpless, trembling bondage
My soul's weight lies on thee,
O call me not at dead of night,
Lest I should come to thee!
Friday, August 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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5/5/2024 12:09:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
