Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord,
And cheer me from the north;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!
I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirits up.
Help me to reach the distant goal;
Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul
That faints for love of Thee!
Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet, since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.
I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is Mercy's door.
There, till the dear Deliverer come,
I'll wait with humble prayer;
And when He calls His exile home,
The Lord shall find him there.
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Comments1Just came across this beautiful poem by William Cowper. I love how he talks about waiting with patient hope, "But hope delay'd fatigues the mind, And drinks the spirits up." Really spoke to me, as I'm sure many of us can relate to struggling with patience. I also really liked the bit about "Mercy's door" being the only one open when everything else seems closed. Definetely a good reminder that sometimes all we can do is be patient and trust that things. will work out.