MORTALLY WOUNDED
I LAY me down to sleep,
With little thought or care
Whether my waking find
Me here—or there!
A bowing, burdened head,
Only too glad to rest,
Unquestioning upon
A loving breast.
I am not eager, bold,
Nor strong—all that is past!
I'm willing not to do,
At last, at last!
My half-day's work is done,
And this is all my part:
To give a patient God
My patient heart;
And grasp His banner still,
Though all its blue be dim;
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him.
Weak, weary and uncrowned,
I yet to bear am strong;
Content not e'en to cry,
"How long! How long!"