What the Prioress Saw from the Parapet (13)
As she struggled from her knees,
She saw a sight that did not please,
Just below the parapet
In the yard to her regret
Stood the Pilgrim with arms out-raised
Praying to the coming day.
'Oh Lord of Light, Sweet Jesus Christ,
Guide me in this garden blight,
The bordered road is filled with thorns,
I shed my blood, my skin is torn;
Guide me on this coming day
That though I stumble on my way,
Do not let me fall from Thy path,
Let me not slip and be outcast;
I stumble like a still young child,
Guide me with Your wisdom mild,
Teach me on this borning day
Thy path to step, I fervent pray.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem