Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/202

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
ASKING FOR TEARS.
Oh, let me come to Thee in this wild way,
Fierce with a grief that will not sleep, to pray
Of all Thy treasures, Father, only one,
After which I may say—Thy will be done.

Nay, fear not Thou to make my time too sweet.
I nurse a Sorrow,—kiss its hands and feet,
Call it all piteous, precious names, and try,
Awake at night, to hush its helpless cry.

The sand is at my moaning lip, the glare
Of the uplifted desert fills the air;
My eyes are blind and burning, and the years
Stretch on before me. Therefore, give me Tears!