Poetry

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Is There Any Way?

The night is black, Father; the stars are blind;
And on the path I tread, the way is hard to find.
It’s hard to walk, Father; the wind is cold;
And it torments my heart that there is no hand to hold.
Is there any way that You could find me here?
Is there any way . . . ?
My hope is dead, Father; my faith is weak;
And as I stumble on, the pathway looks so bleak.
My feet, they bleed, Father; my tears, they fall,
And they tumble untouched with no relief at all.
Is there any way You could stop the flow?
Is there any way . . . ? ...continue reading →

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How gentle God's commands!
How kind His precepts are!
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord
And trust His constant care.

Beneath His watchful eye
His saints securely dwell;
That hand which bears all nature up
Shall guard His children well.

Why should this anxious load
Press down your weary mind?
Haste to your heavenly Father's throne
And sweet refreshment find. ...continue reading →

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O love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in Thee;
I give Thee back the life I owe,
That in Thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to Thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in Thy sunshine's glow, its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be. ...continue reading →

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The Life of a Hermit

Right here I sit, amongst all my friends,
And we all have our roads with their own little bends,
But mine shall begin where the rest of yours ends. . .
I want the life of a hermit.

If in ten years my bright face you would see,
Come to the place where the soul can run free;
Sit on my stoop, and I'll fix you some tea.
Mine is the life of a hermit.

Far up the mountain, with trees on all sides,
There in a meadow my small cottage hides;
Bright is the sunshine, and warmth here abides,
Here in the life of a hermit. ...continue reading →