2.
“Which speaketh unto you as unto children.”
Art thou so weary then, poor thirsty soul?
Have patience, in due season thou shalt sleep.
Mount yet a little while, the path is steep;
Strain yet a little while to reach the goal;
Do battle with thyself, achieve, control:
Till night come down with blessed slumber, deep
As love, and seal thine eyes no more to weep
Thro' long tired vigils while the planets roll.
Have patience, for thou too shalt sleep at length,
Lapped in the pleasant shade of Paradise.
My Hands That bled for thee shall close thine eyes,
My Heart That bled for thee shall be thy Rest:
I will sustain with everlasting Strength,
And thou, with John, shalt lie upon my Breast.
