Quicken Me

A Better Resurrection
I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numb’d too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimm’d with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall–the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perish’d thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

Christina Rossetti

There is such weariness, and such hope, here.

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2 Comments

  1. Scotti said,

    July 11, 2008 at 11:35 pm

    A beautiful poem. Thank you.

  2. notperfection said,

    July 12, 2008 at 9:34 pm

    You’re so welcome. I love this poem. It speaks of a great and deep faith that looks beyond the ‘now’ that feels dry and cold, and into eternity. I always find it a relief to hear people talk about their faith in an honest way, rather than intimating that it feels ‘happy-clappy’ all the time.


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