64
STEVENSON'S POEMS
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,
In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,
Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day;
Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old,
And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold.
I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall,
Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all:
The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold
Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold.
