Father, in the dark I lay, <br />Thirsting for the light, <br />Helpless, but for hope alway <br />In thy father-might. <br /> <br />Out of darkness came the morn, <br />Out of death came life, <br />I, and faith, and hope, new-born, <br />Out of moaning strife! <br /> <br />So, one morning yet more fair, <br />I shall, joyous-brave, <br />Sudden breathing loftier air, <br />Triumph o'er the grave. <br /> <br />Though this feeble body lie <br />Underneath the ground, <br />Wide awake, not sleeping, I <br />Shall in him be found. <br /> <br />But a morn yet fairer must <br />Quell this inner gloom- <br />Resurrection from the dust <br />Of a deeper tomb! <br /> <br />Father, wake thy little child; <br />Give me bread and wine <br />Till my spirit undefiled <br />Rise and live in thine.<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hymn-for-a-sick-girl/
