FATHER, in the dark I lay, Thirsting for the light, Helpless, but for hope alway In thy father-might. Out of darkness came the morn, Out of death came life, I, and faith, and hope, new-born, Out of moaning strife! So, one morning yet more fair, I shall, joyous-brave, Sudden breathing loftier air, Triumph o'er the grave. Though this feeble body lie Underneath the ground, Wide awake, not sleeping, I Shall in him be found. But a morn yet fairer must Quell this inner gloom— Resurrection from the dust Of a deeper tomb! Father, wake thy little child; Give me bread and wine Till my spirit undefiled Rise and live in thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE STATES. TO IDENTIFY THE 16TH, 17TH, OR 18TH PRESIDENTIAD by WALT WHITMAN ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 5. AGAINST SUSPICION by MARK AKENSIDE THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EDITH CAVELL by LAURENCE BINYON THE VISITOR by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 45. FAREWELL TO JULIET (7) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |