THO' Sin too oft, when smitten by Thy rod, Rail at 'Blind Fate' with many a vain 'Alas!' From sin thro' sorrow into Thee we pass By that same path our true forefathers trod; And let not Reason fail me, nor the sod Draw from my death Thy living flower and grass, Before I learn that Love, which is, and was My Father, and my Brother, and my God! Steel me with patience! soften me with grief! Let blow the trumpet strongly while I pray, Till this embattled wall of unbelief My prison, not my fortress, fall away! Then, if thou willest, let my day be brief, So Thou wilt strike Thy glory thro' the day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARMY CORRESPONDENT'S LAST RIDE; FIVE FORKS, APRIL 1, 1865 by GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND SCURVY ENTERTAINMENT by ABU ABD ALLAH BEHIND TIME by ALEXANDER ANDERSON MY WINTER ROSE by ALFRED AUSTIN CALIFORNIA COAST by DORIS CALDWELL DEFEAT by ETHEL TONRY CARPENTER ON THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO LONDON by WILLIAM COWPER TO MY COUSIN ANNE BODHAM, ON RECEIVING FROM HER A PURSE by WILLIAM COWPER |