Once in a time of trouble and of care
I dreamed I talked with God about my pain;
With sleepland courage, daring to complain
Of what I deemed ungracious and unfair.
‘Lord, I have grovelled on my knees in prayer
Hour after hour,’ I cried; ‘yet all in vain;
No hand leads up to heights I would attain,
No path is shown me out of my despair.’
Then answered God: ‘Three things I gave to thee—
Clear brain, brave will, and strength of mind and heart,
All implements divine, to shape the way.
Why shift the burden of thy toil on Me?
Till to the utmost he has done his part
With all his might, let no man dare to pray.’