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The Soul's Preparation For Adversity
How stript and bare is every bush and treeOf all the pride of summer, and of spring;
Each of its vain encumbrance shaken free,
While winter's blasts through all their branches ring!
So, when Thou would'st thy children should prepare
To meet adversity, and pain, and death;
To suffer all things, every danger dare;
Thou scatterest, Father, with the tempest's breath,
All that they cling to in their hour of pride,
All that the world calls greatness, glory, power;
That they in Thee alone may then confide,
And find their proper strength; in that lone hour,
When this world's glory burdens, or is gone;
And they must look to Thee, and Thee alone.
Poem No. 203; c. 4 December 1847
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