Classic Poem

And dare I say, " Welcome to me
The pang that proves Thee near? "
O words, too oft on bended knee
Breathed to th' Unerring Ear.
While the cold spirit silently
Pines at the scourge severe

Nay, try once more — thine eyelids close
For prayer intense and meek:
When the warm light gleams through and shews
Him near who helps the weak
Unmurmuring then thy heart's repose
In dust and ashes seek.

But when the self-abhorring thrill
Is past, as pass it must,
When tasks of life thy spirit fill,
Risen from thy tears and dust,
Then be the self-renouncing will
The seal of thy calm trust.