Hard Times

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Hard Times

I am weary, and very lonely,

And can but think⁠—think.

If there were some water only

That a spirit might drink⁠—drink,

And arise,

With light in the eyes

And a crown of hope on the brow,

To walk abroad in the strength of gladness,

Not sit in the house, benumbed with sadness⁠—

As now!

But, Lord, thy child will be sad⁠—

As sad as it pleases thee;

Will sit, not seeking to be glad,

Till thou bid sadness flee,

And, drawing near,

With thy good cheer

Awake thy life in me.