English poem
My Comrade
by Edwin Markham (1852–1940)
I never build a song by night or day, Of breaking ocean or of blowing whin, But in some wondrous unexpected way, Like light upon a road, my Love comes in.
And when I go at night upon the hill, My heart is lifted on mysterious wings: My Love is there to strengthen and to still, For she can take away the dread of things.