RIENDS, the foot-way is steep and rough, Harder and wearier day by day, Dreary, we murmur, and hard enough E'en could we cast these loads away,— Terrible burdens, alas; are they.
Skeletons, ghastly and strange and grim,— How we shrink from each spectral form! Shadows with sad eyes wet and dim, Fair young corpses, with lips yet warm,— These we carry through shine and storm.
Lying down with them, night by night, Rising up with them, morn by morn, Bearing their weight through the long daylight, Facing them still when the stars are born,— O, how weary and how forlorn!
Ah, my neighbor, your face is fair, Gay and smiling, the whole day through; Have you no speechless sorrow there Are there no ghosts to trouble you Do you carry a skeleton, too?
Softly, softly!—I do not heed Any innocent lie you tell. All whose feet on Life's pathway bleed Carry their terrible loads as well: Never one can escape the spell.
Close your eyes,—but you see them still; Turn your head,—they are there the same ; Fly, they follow, go where you will,— Taunting faces of grief or blame, More to be feared than sword or flame.
Ghosts of the perished joys of old, Hopes which once in our hearts abode, Phantoms of dead loves, stark and cold, Long since buried on Life's sad road,— O, a ghastly and fearful load!
Those torment us with sharp rebukes, These still scourge us with dumb complaint; Others stab us with sad sweet looks From eyes like those of a martyr-saint, Fire-refined from all mortal taint.
O dear Christ, who didst bow and bleed Under the burden laid on Thee, Hear the prayer of our bitter need; Though unlightened our loads may be, Help us to carry them patiently!
RIENDS, the foot-way is steep and rough, 
RIENDS, the foot-way is steep and rough, 