Classic Poem

Art thou wearied in thy search
That from this life's hopes thou'rt parted?
Countless blessings round thee spread,
Ask but and thou shalt receive.
As thou seekest, thus thou findest!
Nay yet more shall be thy share.
Who would ere taste honey's sweetness
If the bee's sharp sting he feared?
Still more early seek the Healer
For thy cure from this world's wounds.
In no Faith is now my trust,
Though each Faith and Creed I know.
Wounded by each shaft I saw
By myself the bow was drawn.
No fear have I of harm from others,
So no harm comes from myself.
Where's the good in promised blessing?
Has ten now with thee my meeting!