Explore "The Valley of Baca. Psalm LXXXIV" by Emma Lazarus on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools / Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees. / A piping wind the narrow valley cools, / Fretting the willows and the cypresses. / Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space / An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
I saw a youth pass down that vale of tears; / His head was circled with a crown of thorn, / His form was bowed as by the weight of years, / His wayworn feet by stones were cut and torn. / His eyes were such as have beheld the sword / Of terror of the angel of the Lord.