Page:The Forest Sanctuary.pdf/53

"But didst thou not, the deep sea brightly treading,
Lift from despair that struggler with the wave?
And wert thou not, sad tears, yet awful, shedding,
Beheld, a weeper at a mortal's grave?
And is this weight of anguish, which they bind
On life, this searing to the quick of mind,
That but to God its own free path would crave,
This crushing out of hope, and love, and youth,

"For my sick soul is darkened unto death.
With shadows from the suffering it hath seen
The strong foundations of mine ancient faith
Sink from beneath me—whereon shall I lean?
—Oh! if from thy pure lips was wrung the sigh
Of the dust's anguish! if like man to die,
—And earth round him shuts heavily—hath been
Even to thee bitter, aid me!—guide me!—turn