Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord, <br />And cheer me from the north; <br />Blow on the treasures of thy word, <br />And call the spices forth! <br /> <br />I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd, <br />And wait with patient hope; <br />But hope delay'd fatigues the mind, <br />And drinks the spirits up. <br /> <br />Help me to reach the distant goal; <br />Confirm my feeble knee; <br />Pity the sickness of a soul <br />That faints for love of Thee! <br /> <br />Cold as I feel this heart of mine, <br />Yet, since I feel it so, <br />It yields some hope of life divine <br />Within, however low. <br /> <br />I seem forsaken and alone, <br />I hear the lion roar; <br />And every door is shut but one, <br />And that is Mercy's door. <br /> <br />There, till the dear Deliverer come, <br />I'll wait with humble prayer; <br />And when He calls His exile home, <br />The Lord shall find him there.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-waiting-soul/
