Hard Times

I am weary, and very lonely,
  And can but think⁠—think.
If there were some water only
  That a spirit might drink⁠—drink,
    And arise,
    With light in the eyes
And a crown of hope on the brow,
  To walk abroad in the strength of gladness,
  Not sit in the house, benumbed with sadness⁠—
    As now!

But, Lord, thy child will be sad⁠—
  As sad as it pleases thee;
Will sit, not seeking to be glad,
  Till thou bid sadness flee,
    And, drawing near,
    With thy good cheer
  Awake thy life in me.