'When you think your heart is broken,
And your very soul seems crushed,
When the darkness closes round you,
And the voice of God seems hushed,
Lift your eyes toward the heavens,
Toward the vastness that is there,
Tell your troubles to your maker,
He will understand and care.
Others sick have drowned their sorrow,
Struggled onward to success,
There's a chance with each tomorrow,
Face about, he'll do the rest.'
-Elizabeth Greer Waite
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem