Two Pursuits

A voice said "Follow, follow": and I rose
  And followed far into the dreamy night,
  Turning my back upon the pleasant light.
It led me where the bluest water flows,
And would not let me drink: where the corn grows
  I dared not pause, but went uncheered by sight
  Or touch: until at length in evil plight
It left me, wearied out with many woes.
Some time I sat as one bereft of sense:
  But soon another voice from very far
     Called, "Follow, follow": and I rose again.
  Now on my night has dawned a blessed star:
     Kind steady hands my sinking steps sustain,
And will not leave me till I shall go hence.