Waking in the night to pray, <br />Sleeping when the answer comes, <br />Foolish are we even at play- <br />Tearfully we beat our drums! <br />Cast the good dry bread away, <br />Weep, and gather up the crumbs! <br /> <br />'Evermore,' while shines the day, <br />'Lord,' we cry, 'thy will be done!' <br />Soon as evening groweth gray, <br />Thy fair will we fain would shun! <br />'Take, oh, take thy hand away! <br />See the horrid dark begun!' <br /> <br />'Thou hast conquered Death,' we say, <br />'Christ, whom Hades could not keep!' <br />Then, 'Ah, see the pallid clay! <br />Death it is,' we cry, 'not sleep! <br />Grave, take all. Shut out the Day. <br />Sit we on the ground and weep!' <br /> <br />Gathering potsherds all the day, <br />Truant children, Lord, we roam; <br />Fret, and longer want to play, <br />When at cool thy voice doth come!- <br />Elder Brother, lead the way; <br />Make us good as we go home.<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/foolish-children/
