Whither, O, whither art thou fled,My Lord, my Love?My searches are my daily bread;Yet never prove.My knees pierce th’earth, mine eies the skie;And yet the sphereAnd centre both to me denieThat thou art there.Yet can I mark how herbs belowGrow green and gay,As if to meet thee they did know,While I decay.Yet can I mark…
“Lord, come to me,’ he cried in his heart, ‘for I cannot go to thee. If I were to go up and up through that awful space for ages and ages, I should never find thee. Yet there thou art. The tenderness of thy infinitude looks upon me from those heavens. Thou art in them…
This beautiful poem and prayer came to mind this morning, and how fitting it is today, even though the winter be symbolic. The skies are pale for us now, and the winds seem rather cold, and the children need help as much as ever they did before. Father – help us! You are our present…
“O That Thou Wouldst Rend the Heavens and Come Down!” Come through the gloom of clouded skies, The slow dim rain and fog athwart, Through East winds keen and wrong and lies, Come and make strong my hopeless heart. Come through the sickness and the pain, The sore unrest that tosses still, The aching dark…
Not that the widespread wings of wrong brood o’er a moaning earth, Not from the clinging curse of gold, the random lot of birth; Not from the misery of the weak, the madness of the strong, Goes upward from our lips the cry, “How long, oh Lord, how long?” Not only from the huts of…
Father, this heart is hurting so, It throbs in pain, it writhes, it bleeds I cannot find the way to go, Groping through these misty reeds Father – thou art my shining key And with thy name, the clue unfolds If thou gavest my life to me Then thy heart, my future holds…
Father, Thou hast made this day – I know not yet what it shall bring If Thou go with me all the way, My soul will lift her voice, and sing If good may come, I’ll smile, A grateful heart I’ll lift to Thee For every good and happy mile, And sunshine lighting…
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