Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/So Tired
So Tired.
So tired of watching and waiting And hoping for happier things; Pale hands, their own story relating, Lie clasped like two folded wings. So Tired.
So tired. So weary of toiling With always a purpose in view; So tired, when naught but recoiling Comes back to a heart warm and true. So Tired.
So tired, when daily come shadows, Where only the sunlight should gleam,With never a walk through green meadows, Or a glimpse of life's beautiful dream. So Tired.
So tired, heart-hungry, starving, So care-hedged, misunderstood: Yet bravely a bright future carving By deeds of the purest and good. So Tired.
So tired, when patient endurance Brings naught but a handful of dross, As "hope deferred"with ah upward glance, Sinks low, without profit, but loss. So Tired.
So tired, and perhaps, fruition So tardy, may come not at all; Why should one. all Love and Ambition, Be driven so close to the wall? So Tired.
So tired, that after these many years, With phantom-like gleams in the hair, And eyes grown dull with scalding tears, Earth's promises proved but a snare. So Tired.
So tired. Perhaps in His kindness, The pitying leather above Led us away, in our blindness, From a path that would ne'er reach His love. So Tired.
So tired: but somehow the knowing A life had been well spent and clean, That sometime the pearls we've been sowing Will rival the moonlight's sheen. Somewhere we'll not be tired.