ORIGINAL POETRY.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 3, Issue 209, 19 July 1878, Page 2

ORIGINAL POETRY.

"THY WILL BE DONE."

When Death's pale pinions throw O'er us their shade of woe, And, through the gloom, his dart Pierces our loved one's heart, Not then is victory won ; Not in that bitter day Can heart, by pain pierced, say— " Thy will be done." While yet the wound is new, Ever before our view Mute trifles strike afresh Thrills through our fainting flesh : While yet we shun the sun, And the glad light of day, Not then can pale lips say— "Thy will be done." When in our tear-dewed eyes Visions will ever rise Of our lost, as last seen Lying, Death's arms between ; Ere Time has yet begun Balm on our wounds to lay, Not yet can wrung hearts say— " Thy will be done." But, when at last we think Of the draughts man must drink, Crushed from the grapes of sin— Sorrows wine-press within— Which he must tread alone, More bitter day by day, Then trembling lips may say— " Thy will be done." And when we think of how, With God's mark on his brow, Shining in robes of white, Living in God's own light, Life has for him begun In the eternal day, Then, with joy, we can say— " Thy will be done." X. T. P.