Oh, what times we know
When we long that sweet release from pain.
For cooling flakes of snow- -
And the calming showers of rain
Worthless person am I,
Worthy only to suffer and die.
The days are rough and long,
and they- wrath and spite prolong.
I hope in what is right
Although my sins follow in tow.
I look to see the end in sight
But time is a bitter foe!
I squint my eyes from blinding light!
My breathing quickens in hope-
Trapped no longer in blackest night
I, with darkness need not cope.
Behold my Abba Father stands.
In his firm grip I'm held,
By his gentle, loving hands.
My soul, to proper shape, He'll meld.
The long days are gone away.
And I in heaven do say,
ney, not say, but with joy do sing- -
“Praises to my Savior I shall always bring! ”
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Comments about this poem (Suddenly by William Tell )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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