Page:Poems Blake.djvu/148

Where blood-stains dim the glowing sod,
 Where pulsing streams of life are flowing,
Where dying eyes are raised to God,—
 We plant again fair seed for sowing.

Each brave heart lying still and cold,
 Far, far away from those who love it;
Each grave the quiet hills enfold
 Where some dear face may bend above it;
Each torture-pang of brain and soul,
 Each tear from eyes unused to weeping,
Within His hands we place the whole,
 And wait in faith the time of reaping.

In Faith and Trust, O God of might!
 No dark despair, no vain repining;
Beyond the depths of sorrow's night
 We see far off the morning shining;
Give us Thy strength, O Wise and Just,
 To wait till Time shall ope the portal,
And perfect faith and perfect trust
 Shall reap their fruit in joy immortal!