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.