Poems (Piatt)/Volume 1/Asking for Tears
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ASKING FOR TEARS.
Oh, let me come to Thee in this wild way,
Fierce with a grief that will not sleep, to pray
Of all Thy treasures, Father, only one,
After which I may say—Thy will be done.
Fierce with a grief that will not sleep, to pray
Of all Thy treasures, Father, only one,
After which I may say—Thy will be done.
Nay, fear not Thou to make my time too sweet.
I nurse a Sorrow,—kiss its hands and feet,
Call it all piteous, precious names, and try,
Awake at night, to hush its helpless cry.
I nurse a Sorrow,—kiss its hands and feet,
Call it all piteous, precious names, and try,
Awake at night, to hush its helpless cry.
The sand is at my moaning lip, the glare
Of the uplifted desert fills the air;
My eyes are blind and burning, and the years
Stretch on before me. Therefore, give me Tears!
Of the uplifted desert fills the air;
My eyes are blind and burning, and the years
Stretch on before me. Therefore, give me Tears!