Wounded

I AM not brave
As others seem to be ;
But, like a knave,
I cringe in misery :

I cannot face
With smiles my wound's keen bite ;
And, oh, a furnace
Is my bed at night !

O God, my God,
Give me the strength to see
Thy hand on the rod
That hotly scourges me !

Media: <html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Wounded</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line">I AM not brave</p><p class="line">As others seem to be ;</p><p class="line">But, like a knave,</p><p class="line">I cringe in misery :</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">I cannot face</p><p class="line">With smiles my wound's keen bite ;</p><p class="line">And, oh, a furnace</p><p class="line">Is my bed at night !</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O God, my God,</p><p class="line">Give me the strength to see</p><p class="line">Thy hand on the rod</p><p class="line">That hotly scourges me !</p></div></body></html>