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224

SAD QUESTIONING

Why is it so? O God!
The old old cry:
As in impatient youth,
So now, our years gone by,
When thy afflictive rod
Would teach us truth.
Why is it so? O Power!
The rocks are bare
With wasting streams; our lives
Are wasted by despair:
In some far vale the flower
Of the future thrives.
Why is it so? O God!
The old vain cry
That asketh thee to spare.
What is it that we die?
Green sod and then green sod
Thy way prepare.