Christina Rossetti(1830–1894)
Up-Hill
Does the road wind up-hill all the way
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak
Of labor you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek
Yea, beds for all who come.
1862