There's not an echo round me, <br />But I am glad should learn, <br />How pure a fire has found me, <br />The love with which I burn. <br />For none attends with pleasure <br />To what I would reveal; <br />They slight me out of measure, <br />And laugh at all I feel. <br /> <br />The rocks receive less proudly <br />The story of my flame; <br />When I approach, they loudly <br />Reverberate his name. <br />I speak to them of sadness, <br />And comforts at a stand; <br />They bid me look for gladness, <br />And better days at hand. <br /> <br />Far from all habitation, <br />I heard a happy sound; <br />Big with the consolation, <br />That I have often found. <br />I said, 'My lot is sorrow, <br />My grief has no alloy; <br />The rocks replied--'Tomorrow, <br />Tomorrow brings thee joy.' <br /> <br />These sweet and sacred tidings, <br />What bliss it is to hear! <br />For, spite of all my chidings, <br />My weakness and my fear, <br />No sooner I receive them, <br />Than I forget my pain, <br />And, happy to believe them, <br />I love as much again. <br /> <br />I fly to scenes romantic, <br />Where never men resort; <br />For in an age so frantic <br />Impiety is sport. <br />For riot and confusion <br />They barter things above; <br />Condemning, as delusion, <br />The joy of perfect love. <br /> <br />In this sequestered corner, <br />None hears what I express; <br />Delivered from the scorner, <br />What peace do I possess! <br />Beneath the boughs reclining, <br />Or roving o'er the wild, <br />I live as undesigning <br />And harmless as a child. <br /> <br />No troubles here surprise me, <br />I innocently play, <br />While Providence supplies me, <br />And guards me all the day: <br />My dear and kind defender <br />Preserves me safely here, <br />From men of pomp and splendour, <br />Who fill a child with fear.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-child-of-god-longing-to-see-him-beloved/
