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Posts Tagged ‘comfort’

O Love Divine, that stooped to share
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear,
On Thee we cast each earth-born care,
We smile at pain while Thou art near!

Though long the weary way we tread,
And sorrow crown each lingering year,
No path we shun, no darkness dread,
Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near! 

When drooping pleasure turns to grief,
And trembling faith is changed to fear,
The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf,
Shall softly tell us, Thou art near! 

On Thee we fling our burdening woe,
O Love Divine, forever dear,
Content to suffer while we know,
Living and dying, Thou art near!

 

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Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still.
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour’d ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
i guess one angel in another’s hell.
Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

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A life must never be a box
One’s holding almost thrilled,
But closed, with candies filled,
When key’s at hand to open locks.

The comfort of the well-worn path
May keep one from the new
Where lies the golden dew,
While sparing but a little wrath.

When stranger of the moment knocks
And has another’s trust,
To shake his hand’s a must,
For worlds a greeting thus unlocks. 

When we have ceased our earthly stay,
May it be widely said
And on our tombstones read
That here lies one who seized the day.


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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

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