FATHER, in the dark I lay, Thirsting for the light, Helpless, but for hope alway In thy father-might. Out of darkness came the morn, Out of death came life, I, and faith, and hope, new-born, Out of moaning strife! So, one morning yet more fair, I shall, joyous-brave, Sudden breathing loftier air, Triumph o'er the grave. Though this feeble body lie Underneath the ground, Wide awake, not sleeping, I Shall in him be found. But a morn yet fairer must Quell this inner gloom— Resurrection from the dust Of a deeper tomb! Father, wake thy little child; Give me bread and wine Till my spirit undefiled Rise and live in thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 110. THE OASIS OF SIDI KHALED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE TENTH MUSE: THE VANITY OF ALL WORLDLY THINGS by ANNE BRADSTREET IN THE WILDERNESS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE THE ETERNAL GOODNESS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER HELIADES: ZEUS, BRAZEN THUNDER-HURLER by AESCHYLUS |