5.2.07

Child of Grace

I’ve drunk the tears of sleepless dreams,
with longing thoughts as company
and made believe—a shadow seems
a dancing child! But no; a tree…

While friends abound in infant joy—
their laughter turns in me to tears—
a brown-haired girl or sun-kissed boy.
O Lord, thou knowest what I fear:

the always longing not fulfilled;
to hold a child and call him mine
and adding him—our family build—
three separate hearts will intertwine.

Then suddenly—like morning’s light—
a child is giv’n, and warmly I embrace
the one adopted with my feeble might,
and praise You for the bounty of Your grace:

that to this longing heart You grant
a child—so dear, so tender sweet!
Thus fruit is borne of faith You plant
in every heart You deign to meet.

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