Treasure Island

Gamaliel Bradford

(9 October 1863 - 11 April 1932 / Boston, Massachusetts)

Fear


When I was little,
My life was half fear.
My nerves were as brittle
As nature may bear.

Shapes monstrous would follow
My footsteps alone,
And night, huge and hollow,
Yawned cold as a stone.

At trifles I started,
For nothing I wept,
And terror departed
Not all when I slept.

Now I've grown older,
My nerves I restrain.
My pulses are colder,
And clearer my brain.

Yet still with a shudder
I drift through the dark
And fear holds the rudder,
A-guiding my bark.

The world's so enormous
In multiple whole,
What god can inform us
It cares for a soul?

Submitted: Wednesday, April 04, 2012

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