Who'll Carry A Message?

Father unto whom we lift
At the closing of the day
Prayer and praise — a tiny gift —
Thou art very far away.
Feeble little people we
Vainly tell our misery.

If we cannot understand,
Even while we pray to Thee,
Why Thou dost not stretch a hand
To allay our misery:
Father unto whom we pray,
Thou art very far away.

It is strange a Father should
From His children thus be far.
Thou who art so great and good
Surely cannot know we are
Weeping here in misery,
Mourning we are far from Thee.

Tears are very fragile things,
Hopeless things that cannot rise:
Sorrow has not any wings.
How can Sorrow reach the skies?
Fathers when they live too high
Cannot hear their children cry.

If You hear us when we pray,
Smitten down by hunger dread,
Unto Thee from day to day,
"Give us now our daily bread."
Father, while Thy children groan
Can Thou sit upon a throne?


The Lonely God, and Other Poems [1909]