I am a wave that cannot reach the land, My strength is spent beneath a careless sky, Only the cruel sea-gulls, cold and high, Glisten at last upon the restful sand. I am a wave beneath the tempest's rod, Voicing the lost mid-ocean's shaken cry, I am a woman who will live and die Without the one thing I have craved of God. I am a harp with over-tightened strings, Where all the lonely winds of heaven come; I am a singer, singing far and wide Who learns from longing all the songs she sings. God, tho' my joy strike me blind and dumb, Send me not back to death unsatisfied. |