Poems (Shipton)/Bread Upon the Water

by Anna Shipton

BREAD UPON THE WATERS.

"Now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face."
1 Cor. xiii. 12.

Say not, "'Twas all in vain,"
 The anguish, and the darkness, and the strife.
Love thrown upon the waters comes again
 In quenchless yearnings for a nobler life.
Think, how at midnight, on thy weary sight
 The stars shone forth: beneath their welcome rays
Thy hopes to heaven, like birds, first took their flight;
 And thou shalt find them—"after many days."

Say not, "'Twas all in vain,"
 The vigil, and the sickness, and the tears;
For in that land, where there is no more pain,
 The grain is garnered from these mournful years.
The faded form, once sheltered on thy breast,
 No more thy gentle ministry repays,
She waits with Jesus in her sinless rest:
 Fear not to find her—"after many days."

Say not, "'Twas all in vain,"
 Thy tenderness, thy meekness. 'Oh! not so;
A strength for others' sufferings thou shalt gain,
 As healing balms from bruised flowerets flow.
Weep not the wealth, in fearless faith cast forth
 On the dark billows, shipwrecked to thy gaze;
The bark was frail, the gem has still its worth,
 And "thou shalt find it—after many days."

Say not, "'Twas all in vain,"
 The watching, and the waiting, and the prayer:
In pierced hands hath it unanswered lain?
 'Twill grow in blessing as it lingers there.
' Tis space where once thy quivering form was cast;
 No floating breeze thy heart-wrung cry betrays;
Yet through the white-winged choir thy prayer hath past,
 And "thou shalt find it—after many days."

Say not, "'Twas all in vain,"
 Thy patience, and thy pity, and the word
In warning breathed 'mid passion's hurricane
 (Unheeded here, thy God that whisper heard);
The tender grief, o'er strangers' sorrows shed;
 The sacrifice, that won no human praise.
In faith upon the waters cast thy bread,
 For "thou shalt find it—after many days."