Tired.
We are so tired, my heart and I, 1
Sweet is the swell of the poet’s sigh ; 2
Sweet is the ring of the minor chords ; 3
Sweet is the chime of the measured words : 4
But, oh! when life is so hard and dull, 5
We miss the joy of the beautiful, 6
And echo it back like a bitter cry— 7
“We are so tired, my heart and I.”8
Tired of sowing the barren grains, 9
Tired of taking the useless pains
10
Of the futile faith, the unheeded word, 11
And the weary sickness of hope deferred ; 12
While the counted sands drop fast away, 13
Through the feverish night and the restless day, 14
And the reeds we lean on break, one by one, 15
And the sad, ungranted prayers go on.16
The winds sweep over the cowering plain, 17
Through the creeping mist sobs the ceaseless rain ; 18
The chill and heaviness all around, 19
Like a chain the aching temples bound ; 20
Dream, fancy, sacrifice—what is its all? 21
Climbing, struggling, slip, and fall, 22
O’er the dull grey sea, stoops the dull grey sky ; 23
We are so tired, my heart and I.24
Break through the clouds, oh, Easter light ! 25
Wake up, brave sense of truth and right, 26
Lay on the shrine of our risen Lord
27
The useless talent, the broken sword ; 28
Lay there doubts, griefs, and wants, and cares, 29
And the erring darlings of many prayers. 30
From the cross on earth, to the crown on high, 31
Let us look together, my heart and I.32