Appeal

3 0 00

Appeal

If in my arms I bore my child,

Would he cry out for fear

Because the night was dark and wild

And no one else was near?

Shall I then treat thee, Father, as

My fatherhood would grieve?

I will be hopeful, though, alas,

I cannot quite believe!

I had no power, no wish to be:

Thou madest me half blind!

The darkness comes! I cling to thee!

Be thou my perfect mind.