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Dark is the time—a woeful day!
Dear daughter of affliction, say
How can I serve you? point the way.”
“Rights have you, and may well be bold:
You with my Father have grown old
In friendship ;—go—from him from me—
Strive to avert this misery.
This would I beg; but on my mind
A passive stillness is enjoined.
—If prudence offer help or aid,
On you is no restriction laid;
You not forbidden to recline
With hope upon the Will Divine.”
“Hope,” said the Sufferer’s zealous Friend,
“Must not forsake us till the end.—
In Craven’s wilds is many a den,
To shelter persecuted Men:
