Up Hill
by Christiana Rossetti
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 till night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for me 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 the 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.
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