Thursday, July 18, 2013

July 23

WHO would wish back the Saints upon our rough,
   Wearisome road?
      Wish back a breathless soul
      Just at the goal?
   My soul, praise God
For all dear souls which have enough.

I would not fetch one back to hope with me
   A hope deferred,
      To taste a cup that slips
      From thirsting lips: --
   Hath he not heard
And seen what was to hear and see?

How could I stand to answer the rebuke,
   If one should say:
      "O friend of little faith,
      Good was my death,
  And good my day
Of rest, and good the sleep I took"?

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