Thou knowest, O my Father! Why should I Weary high heaven with restless prayers and tears? Thou knowest all! My heart’s unuttered cry Hath soared beyond the stars and reached Thine ears.
Thou knowest—ah, Thou knowest! Then what need, O, loving God, to tell Thee o’er and o’er, And with persistent iteration plead As one who crieth at some closèd door?
“Tease not!” we mothers to our children say— “Our wiser love will grant whate’er is best.” Shall we, Thy children, run to Thee alway, Begging for this and that in wild unrest?
I dare not clamor at the heavenly gate, Lest I should lose the high, sweet strains within; O, Love Divine! I can but stand and wait Till Perfect Wisdom bids me enter in!
WINTER
O my roses, lying underneath the snow! Do you still remember summer’s warmth and glow? Do you thrill, remembering how your blushes burned When the Day-god on you ardent glances turned?
Great tree, wildly stretching bare arms up to heaven, Do you think how softly, on some warm June even, All your young leaves whispered, all your birds sang low, As with rhythmic motion boughs swayed to and fro?
River, lying whitely in a frozen sleep, Know you how your pulses used to throb and leap? How you danced and sparkled on your happy way, In the summer mornings when the world was gay?
Dear Earth, dumbly waiting God’s appointed time, Are you faint with longing for the voice sublime? Wrapped in stony silence, does your great heart beat, Listening in the darkness for the coming of His feet?