O God! if this indeed be all <br /> That Life can show to me; <br />If on my aching brow may fall <br /> No freshening dew from Thee, -- <br />If with no brighter light than this <br /> The lamp of hope may glow, <br />And I may only dream of bliss, <br /> And wake to weary woe; <br /> <br />If friendship's solace must decay, <br /> When other joys are gone, <br />And love must keep so far away, <br /> While I go wandering on, -- <br /> <br />Wandering and toiling without gain, <br /> The slave of others' will, <br />With constant care, and frequent pain, <br /> Despised, forgotten still; <br /> <br />Grieving to look on vice and sin, <br /> Yet powerless to quell <br />The silent current from within, <br /> The outward torrent's swell: <br /> <br />While all the good I would impart, <br /> The feelings I would share, <br />Are driven backward to my heart, <br /> And turned to wormwood, there; <br /> <br />If clouds must ever keep from sight <br /> The glories of the Sun, <br />And I must suffer Winter's blight, <br /> Ere Summer is begun; <br /> <br />If life must be so full of care, <br /> Then call me soon to Thee; <br />Or give me strength enough to bear <br /> My load of misery. <br /> <br />Acton<br /><br />Anne Brontë<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-this-be-all/
