Share page | Visit Us On FB |
102 FABER'S HYMNS. |
||
The cold wet wind would seem to wash The world from off my brow:
And I should feel amidst the storm That none were near but Thou.
Each wave that broke upon the rocks Would seem to break on me:
And he who stands an outward shock Gains inward liberty. |
||
Upon the wings of wild sea-birds, My dark thoughts would I lay,
And let them bear them out to sea, In the tempest far away. |
||
For life has grown a simple weight;
Each effort seems a fall; And all things weary me on earth,
But good things most of all. |
||