Hard Times

A poem by George MacDonald

I am weary, and very lonely,
And can but think--think.
If there were some water only
That a spirit might drink--drink,
And arise,
With light in the eyes
And a crown of hope on the brow,
To walk abroad in the strength of gladness,
Not sit in the house, benumbed with sadness--
As now!

But, Lord, thy child will be sad--
As sad as it pleases thee;
Will sit, not seeking to be glad,
Till thou bid sadness flee,
And, drawing near,
With thy good cheer
Awake thy life in me.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Hard Times' by George MacDonald

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy