If we could die
Whene’er the sad heart craved release,
Or the grieved spirit begged surcease
Of agony;
If we could die
When weary of our earthly home,
Many would unassoilzied come,
Dear Lord, to thee. HEVI 41.3
How oft the cry:
“Lord take this life that thou didst give!
Too sad am I, too weak, to live;
Lord, let me die!
I ask but this:
Simply within the grave to lie;
To hear no sound, to make no cry;
This would be bliss.” HEVI 41.4
In after-time,
When life’s fires burn with milder glow,
We humbly say: “Tis better so;
Thy will, not mine.
Dear Lord, is best.
I joy in this life thou didst give;
How glad, how glad am I to live:
My days are blest. HEVI 41.5
“It has been given
That I should strengthen one to stand;
To uplift one with helpful hand
From darkened way.
I thank thee, Lord
Thou didst not grant my wilful cry,
But gave me peace. How blest am I
In this, my life!” Virginia F. Noble. HEVI 41.6