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- Author: Susan Coolidge
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 66
- ISBN-10: 1499584008
- ISBN-13: 9781499584004
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.4 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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"Do their errands; enter into the sacrifice with them; be a link yourself in the divine chain, and feel the joy and life of it."-ADELINE D. T. WHITNEY What can I do for thee, Beloved, Whose feet so little while ago Trod the same way-side dust with mine, And now up paths I do not know Speed, without sound or sign? What can I do? The perfect life All fresh and fair and beautiful Has opened its wide arms to thee; Thy cup is over-brimmed and full; Nothing remains for me. I used to do so many things, - Love thee and chide thee and caress; Brush little straws from off thy way, Tempering with my poor tenderness The heat of thy short day. Not much, but very sweet to give; And it is grief of griefs to bear That all these ministries are o'er, And thou, so happy, Love, elsewhere, Never can need me more: - And I can do for thee but this (Working on blindly, knowing not If I may give thee pleasure so): Out of my own dull, burdened lot I can arise, and go To sadder lives and darker homes, A messenger, dear heart, from thee Who wast on earth a comforter, And say to those who welcome me, I am sent forth by her.
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- Author: Susan Coolidge
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- Year: 2014
- Pages: 66
- ISBN-10: 1499584008
- ISBN-13: 9781499584004
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.4 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
"Do their errands; enter into the sacrifice with them; be a link yourself in the divine chain, and feel the joy and life of it."-ADELINE D. T. WHITNEY What can I do for thee, Beloved, Whose feet so little while ago Trod the same way-side dust with mine, And now up paths I do not know Speed, without sound or sign? What can I do? The perfect life All fresh and fair and beautiful Has opened its wide arms to thee; Thy cup is over-brimmed and full; Nothing remains for me. I used to do so many things, - Love thee and chide thee and caress; Brush little straws from off thy way, Tempering with my poor tenderness The heat of thy short day. Not much, but very sweet to give; And it is grief of griefs to bear That all these ministries are o'er, And thou, so happy, Love, elsewhere, Never can need me more: - And I can do for thee but this (Working on blindly, knowing not If I may give thee pleasure so): Out of my own dull, burdened lot I can arise, and go To sadder lives and darker homes, A messenger, dear heart, from thee Who wast on earth a comforter, And say to those who welcome me, I am sent forth by her.
Reviews