64 STEVENSON'S POEMS '
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and
cold, In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows ; but far along my
way, Before the morning God rose and planned the coming
day; Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of
old, And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of
I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at
the wall, Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through
it all: The love of God, the help of man, they both shall
make me bold Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of