| |
Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise,
But ah! It's not in me.
My sinking heart I pray Thee raise
So shall I give it Thee.
My life as spider's webb's cut off,
Thus fainting have I said,
And living man no more shall see
But be in silence laid.
My feeble spirit Thou didst revive,
My doubting Thou didst chide,
And though as dead mad'st me alive,
I here a while might 'bide.
Why should I live but to Thy praise?
My life is hid with Thee.
O Lord, no longer be my days
Than I may fruitful be.
Anne Bradstreet
Read poems about / on: silence, life, heart
|
|
User Rating: |
|
5.5
/10
(2 votes) |
|
|
|
Anne Bradstreet
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend